


An echo deep inside

by BitterSweet (PinkOrchid)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 40,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkOrchid/pseuds/BitterSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mike sees something he never wanted to and finds he can't lie to himself any more, while Harvey comes to a realization of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freeze Frame

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters and intend no disrespect to their originators, writers or actors. Not Beta'd.
> 
> This is set sometime after Pearson Hardman had become Pearson Specter Litt and Mike had come back to Harvey from his job as an investment banker. Oh and he and Rachel broke up for good after Logan, and never got back together, so it is slightly AU in that respect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This image would burn itself onto Mike's retina, one of the three truly horrible moments in his life that he would desperately wish to obliterate, but would never be able to forget.

It was exactly ten minutes to ten on a Friday night when Mike’s world tilted on its axis and began to fall apart. Today was not Friday the 13th, but the date seemed to be fate’s only concession to kindness in the horror story that was waiting for him upstairs. He wasn’t even meant to be here tonight, he had finished Harvey’s files hours ago and been given a dispensation to take the evening off, had been looking forward to doing something normal, something that signified Having-A-Life, like getting a drink in an actual bar on the way home – yes, he would have been alone, but that was nothing unusual these days. It would totally have counted.

But just as Mike was starting to put away his highlighters, he heard a familiar voice at his shoulder - seriously, how did Louis manage to _do_ that creepy-silent-creeping-up shit?

"Have these files proofed before you go, Ross" he growled, before he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Mike knew better than to argue, and as he had no other work for Harvey do as priority, he knew he would just have to suck it up. He groaned, sighed and finally grabbed the files and headed for the file room where he could stretch out on a bigger desk in peace. There was nobody else around at this time of night so he had the floor pretty much to himself. Even the lights were dimmed. He slipped in his ear buds and pulled up a playlist from his player - might as well have some music to drown out the silence of another lonely Friday night in the file room at Pearson Specter and Litt. 

As he was reading one of the case files for Louis’s latest merger, he caught sight of a name that was familiar, it was the same company that was being sued for unfair dismissal in the pro-bono file he’d handed off to Harvey over an hour ago. The co-incidence struck him as odd. Wouldn't the fact that the company was a client of theirs pose a conflict of interest for them, now? He needed another look at the pro-bono file, he could remember it word for word, but still, he wanted to see it. He left the file room and began to walk swiftly and with purpose down the empty corridors, not turning on the lights, feet making barely any sound, not that Mike would have heard it anyway, since he was listening to the music so intently, focused on one of his favorite songs.

Harvey had left ages ago, had already been packing up when Mike dropped off the files earlier, and his corner office was in darkness now. Mike pushed open the door, snapping on the light as he went, totally unprepared for the sight that burst into life before his eyes. Harvey’s ergonomic chair was pulled over to the window, sideways to the door, and Harvey himself was sitting in it (in the dark, Mike’s mind helpfully provided). His trousers and boxers were puddled unceremoniously around his ankles, something that Mike, with his perfect recall, would remember as slightly incongruous when he thought about it later.

But this was not what caught his attention now. No, that honor went to Harvey’s beautiful assistant, Donna, flushed, disheveled and looking wanton as all hell, straddling his best-friend-boss (seriously?) with her soft grey dress pushed in loose folds up around her hips, Harvey's hands gripping her waist, hers locked on Harvey's shoulders. Mike's soundtrack was still flooding his ears, giving the scene a film-like, surreal quality and preventing him from hearing things he was pretty glad he hadn't heard. Everyone froze, the only movement the furious rise and fall of the chests of the two who had so obviously been disturbed. Harvey's face swiveled in slow motion towards the door, for a moment he looked almost stricken. Donna just looked like Donna. 

It took perhaps a second for Mike’s shock to register on his face as meaning finally caught up with the image that was now indelibly burnt into his brain. And then, with a mouthed ‘sorry’ and small, sad dip of his head, he dropped his eyes to the carpet, flicked off the light again, and was gone.

***

Harvey was silent, his breathing heavy and sounding harsh in the darkness. He and Donna both remained perfectly still.  
"Go after him", Donna said, with something like regret in her voice.  
"But -"  
"Go after him, fix this!" she repeated, this time the words accompanied by a glare.

By the time Harvey was presentable enough to follow after him, there was no sign of Mike anywhere in the building, although his bike was still locked to the railing outside. _Shit_ , he thought. _What had the kid been doing in his office at that hour?_ He resisted a lick of anger towards Mike for stumbling in on them. He knew that for once it actually hadn’t been his associate’s fault. But this could just about ruin the tenuous peace they’d won back so slowly from the recent turbulence in their relationship. This was the last thing he wanted his rookie to have seen. Harvey was pissed. He turned around and walked back to his office. Hopefully Donna was still there and they could do something about working that off. They had unfinished business, after all. 

Still, underneath the bravado, he felt rather than knew that this would have consequences that rippled outward from this central point, from this one moment of revelation in the dark. It may have been Mike’s world that had come crashing down tonight, but Harvey’s had shifted from the impact too.


	2. Drowning sorrows in a well of stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finally gets it - but is it too late?

Mike had barely stopped to collect his bag before he fled the building, Louis could go sing for his files, Mike had to get _out_ of there. His mind was reeling, unable to process what he had just seen. Harvey .. and _Donna_? It was like a kick to the stomach, he felt as if the ground had dropped away from beneath his feet. His breath was ragged, riding the edge of panic and he thought he might actually throw up, right there on the sidewalk. It just couldn’t be true. How had he not seen this? He knew his boss and the red-haired assistant were close. Closer than close. And he knew how Donna felt about Harvey underneath the layers of sarcasm and awesomeness. But he hadn’t thought they might be a couple. Donna didn’t do casual. If she were involved.. it must be…. it had to be a relationship. Mike’s shoulders slumped at the realisation of this, a heavy weight clutching at his chest. Harvey respected, needed, Donna too much for this to be a once-off sordid little office fling. He had too much to lose. He would never risk that. 

Mike walked with no direction, kept on going, following his feet. He had walked several blocks in a state of numb shock by the time the voice of reason started to whisper in his ear. _Why should it matter?_ he thought. _What business is it of mine who Harvey is - doing that - to?_ Mike had no answer for that one, and that pulled him up short. It's not like he hadn't seen Harvey with anyone before - well ok, not so immediately _with_ them, but still.. all those waitresses and perfumed party guests Harvey had flirted with in bars and at work events. He would celebrate his courtroom wins (and Harvey pretty much always won) by bringing Mike out to some swanky bar, and would end the night by taking a new conquest to his glass box in the sky, leaving a slightly bored associate behind to finish his drink and make his own way home, most often alone. And then there was Scotty, she'd been at the condo several times when Mike was there, obviously either just before or just after sleeping with Harvey, so news flash, the fact that Harvey liked beautiful women, liked _sex_ with beautiful women, should not be a surprise. He just wished he hadn't had to _actually_ see it.

Mike rolled the thought around and around, it just didn't make sense that this had rocked his world so deeply. If it were anybody else, he would just think, lucky dog, and be done with it. _God I'm being such a teenage girl about this!_ he thought. _Anyone would think I was.. jealous or something!_ As soon as the words rang out inside his head, he felt his knees buckle, threatening to give way. _Oh my God_ , he thought. _I'm jealous. I'm totally **jealous** that somebody else is having sex with Harvey._ His heart sank even lower in his chest. This was ridiculous, Mike wasn't even _gay_ , well, not really. Ok, maybe a little. But Harvey, he most definitely wasn't gay at all, Mike would be willing to bet on it. _When did this happen_ , he asked himself. _When did I lose sight of my sanity entirely? When did I fall for my boss?_ But when he took a good long look at how he felt about Harvey he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his feelings went way beyond platonic. Probably had for quite some time. It was suddenly clear to him that he had been so blinded by his admiration and gratitude, by his need to have some human closeness in his life, that he had ignored completely the strong attraction that lurked underneath the wish for friendship. Desire unwound itself now like a spring coiled too far, like a clockwork toy winding down to stillness. There could be no more pretending now. He needed Harvey to care. He _wanted_ Harvey. There was nobody else. Only him.

With a sinking feeling, Mike realized that no matter how he felt about Harvey Specter, he really had no chance. He probably never had a chance. Donna was everything Mike was not. Donna was a grown god-damn woman, elegant, poised and powerful and mysterious as the moon. Mike was a monumental screw-up of a messy puppy, an emotional wreck who had just barely finished being a boy. He and Harvey were never going to be anything more than colleagues, he had to stop kidding himself. He was too late. It was too late. They were done before it had even begun. The feelings he had never acknowledged until now suddenly rose and threatened to engulf him. He felt himself splash about in deep water, then submerged, pulled under by the relentless draw of the tide.

Mike found the nearest bar and drank himself spectacularly drunk, drunk enough so that the pain in his heart sank down beneath warm golden waves of tequila. He let the alcohol pull him into a forgetful embrace and tried not to remember that he had gone and fallen in love with a man called Harvey.


	3. Aftermaths and Apparitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike wakes up with a hangover - and a new friend

Mike woke with a strangled groan and a particularly nasty headache the next day. His eyeballs hurt. Like, seriously hurt. His mouth tasted rank and fluffy, as if he had fallen asleep sucking a dirty woolen sock. At least he was in his own bed, he thought. He couldn't remember much past the fifth shot last night, but he knew from the A1 grade hangover he was experiencing that he must have had many more after that, and he thought he remembered a change of venue too, before making his way back home. Thank goodness it was Saturday, no need to go into work. 

He groaned again when his phone buzzed insistently beside him. Looking at the screen he saw it was Harvey. Well, who else would it be? He surfaced some more, and suddenly he remembered - the scene in the office, the painful realization afterwards - that's when the full weight of his humiliation and despair came crashing around him like a freight train. He felt his body shift into a mild sense of panic, and that must explain why he did something he rarely (maybe never?) did to Harvey - he hit the button to ignore the call. But of course, this was Harvey. He rang straight back. Even the phone seemed to be giving off waves of irritation by proxy. Mike resisted the urge to hurl it at the wall or bury it under his pillow. He knew Harvey wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted, and in this case, that meant Mike answering his god-damn phone. 

"Um, hello?"  
"Nice of you to answer, Michael" - Harvey sounded pissed. 

Mike bit down on a crazy urge to just hang up as his scrambled brain cells began to grind into grudging action. Why was Harvey pissed at him, it's not like he had done anything wrong, not really. Maybe attack would be the best form of defense.. "Did you need something Harvey? Only it's kindof the weekend, you know, that thing when we get to, oh, I don't know, rest up or have fun like normal people once in a while?" Crap, his voice sounded hoarse, bar-room and too many drinks and shouting over loud music kind of hoarse. No hiding the fact that he was out last night, then. 

Harvey was silent for a beat or two, Mike's eyeballs notched the pain up a level, vicious little bastards, and his stomach gave a dubious lurch. Then, just as Harvey started to say "I was hoping we could" and Mike just _knew_ the next word would be 'talk' and he really didn't want to hear it, there was a thump caused by the bathroom door swinging open against the wall. Mike jumped and yes, maybe he gave a little yell - but it definitely was not a scream, no way. Harvey stopped mid sentence, alarmed. Mike was equally alarmed. Here he was, in his own bedroom FFS, staring at a very lovely but totally unfamiliar pair of deep brown eyes. 

The eyes belonged to a quite handsome but definitely - ok, very - male person, standing in the door of his bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. And all of a sudden, the man - _who was this guy?_ \- was saying in an unmistakably _manly_ voice, a voice so loud it was practically ringing off the walls: "Hey, you do know your shower is spectacularly shit, right Blondie? Oh sorry, didn't know you were on the phone!" Blondie!? Really?! Mike's mouth opened and closed like nothing so much as a goldfish. It would be comical if it wasn't so horrific. For the second time today he gave in to incipient panic, he hung up the phone. 

*****

On the other end of the total silence that indicated he had just been hung up on, Harvey was now most definitely pissed. But truth be told, he was more shocked than angry. If he wasn't such a refined man, he would have been giving Mike a run for his money in the goldfish department. His fingers twitched around his phone. His mind was blank. _What the? But! Wait, what now?_ And then it hit him, deep in a place he had forgotten even existed. Mike had someone in his apartment, had had quite a night last night judging by the sound of his voice. Mike had brought someone home. And - and here was the kicker - that someone had most emphatically been _male_.

Harvey shook it off. None of his business. Right. But his gaydar must be seriously off, how had he not seen that one coming? He read people for a living, how had he missed this? It irked him that he had been blindsided like this, and by his puppy of all things, his transparent, obvious-as-hell, emotions-all-over-the-place puppy. But Mike had never given any indication of being anything but straight. Jenny. Rachel. That married girl. And then it hit him. One word. Trevor. No wonder Mike had felt so betrayed when the little shit went and told Jessica about him. Harvey remembered their easy closeness, their little mock-boxing routines and warm hands on backs and shoulders. Harvey growled. He had never liked that guy.

Harvey replayed every interaction he had ever had with Mike Ross and thought about how it was always there, underneath the surface, if only he had dared to look. Harvey shook his head again. What did it matter? It's not like he would have done anything differently. Mike Ross who slept with men sometimes was just as much out of bounds as Mike Ross the straight kid. But still, Harvey was hurt that Mike had not trusted him with this side of himself. What, did he think Harvey was a homophobe? Far from it! And you know, if he was really this kid's friend, the only friend he had left, it seemed, then he totally should have known. 

Harvey wondered what did it say about how self-absorbed he had been, that something so fundamental could escape him. Sure, he said he didn't care, but Mike knew that wasn't true. Only, if he _did_ care, shouldn't he take more of an interest sometimes? Shouldn't he know the kid's preferences, be able to talk honestly to Mike about his weekends, his conquests. About how they had more in common than you'd think. Then, suddenly, he was reminded of his reaction to Mike talking about Rachel, the last time he'd had 'relationship issues'. He groaned as he remembered how he had told the kid to shut up about the soap opera of his life. No wonder the kid hadn't told him. 

And he had to admit, Pearson, Specter, Litt wasn't exactly known for its warm and fuzzy working environment. It was lean, tough and macho as hell, the old boys syndrome alive and kicking. It was extremely hard to be 'out' as a gay lawyer in an environment like this. Harvey should know, it was one of the main reasons he was, shall we say, circumspect about his own proclivities. He had no problem with being bisexual, he didn't try to hide it particularly and his close friends and family all knew - but he was damned if he was going to commit professional suicide by announcing it to all and sundry. 

He lifted his phone to text Mike. The latest revelation meant they had even more reason to have that talk.  
_Get your ass over here kid_ , he texted Mike. There was no reply. That wasn't a very good sign.


	4. Stick Pins in my Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations and mis-communications - business as usual for Marvey..

Waiting for Mike, Harvey resisted the almost unbearable temptation to text or ring him a second time. That would look a little too much like desperation. Harvey didn't do 'desperate'. He had almost worn a groove into his hardwood floor from all the pacing. It wasn't like the kid not to come right over when summoned. And Harvey could feel an irrational wave of anger building with every second that Mike was making him wait. But even when he did get here - what could Harvey say? 

He had texted Donna somewhere after the first hour. _We need to tell him._  
She texted right back. _Not if you value your man-bits you won't. Seriously. Don't make me do it!_

Harvey sighed. Secrets on top of secrets. He felt exhausted, frustrated. He had hardly slept last night, replaying the sad look on Mike's face as he had turned away from Harvey and left. Why did he care anyway, what did it matter? 

Finally, three hours and then some after his text to Mike, the kid was outside knocking on Harvey's door. Harvey opened the door, his own face impassive as he looked his associate up and down. He saw straight off that the younger man was agitated and clearly upset, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed, not making eye contact with Harvey, soft features for once closed off. Then again, he was undoubtedly still hung over, and also was bound to not be exactly comfortable with having this conversation in the first place, so Harvey didn't worry too much. However, upset or not, he couldn't just let Mike keep him waiting like that and not feel the wrath of Harvey on his head, and besides, a good chewing out sometimes settled the kid, God knows why. So he growled out a: "What took you so long, I'm pretty sure I didn't tell you to take your own sweet time, Rookie." 

Mike still wouldn't look at him, which was a little weird. He shrugged vaguely, head down. Harvey sighed and just stood back to let Mike into his apartment. As he followed his rookie into the open plan kitchen space, Harvey noticed a slight stutter in his walk, a little hitch. He frowned, offered Mike a seat on the hard bar stool, and there - there it was again, a wince, a micro-expression of discomfort before Mike clamped down hard on it and his face resumed its blank and steady stare. Irritation flared inside Harvey's chest. So that is why the kid made him wait three - _three_ \- hours. He had obviously gone for another round before answering Harvey's imperious command. It also left no doubt as to Mike's preferences in the sack, that much was clear. And Harvey had no idea why that should bother him so. 

He frowned as he sat opposite Mike and waited for the younger man to start babbling, in the way he always did when there was tension between them. Mike always broke first and started to talk non-stop, rambling away until he stumbled over something that would save the day. But not today. Today, Mike was silent as the grave, looking down at his hands clasped loosely on the counter top. This was just not Mike, either. Harvey sighed. Guess it was up to him to do the heavy lifting then. It totally wasn't fair, Mike was the one who had all these emotions anyway, this was really not Harvey's area of expertise. 

"So." Great! Way to go, Specter.  
"So", Mike echoed. Then stopped. 

Mike looked away, seeming embarrassed to be having this conversation. Really, he looked like he would rather have been anywhere else but here, now, talking about this mess they had gotten themselves into, like he would rather stick pins in his eyes. But then he seemed to make some kind of decision and took a breath before starting to speak.

"Look", he finally said, "what either of us does in their own free time is nobody else's business. Right? It's irrelevant". 

"Is that what you really believe?"

"Yes. Don't ask, don't tell. I'll pretend I saw nothing, and you can damn well pretend you didn't hear anything either. We can put this behind us and move on with the case work, God knows we have enough to be doing without all this crap spilling out and into our work life."

Harvey tried to gather his thoughts, working out what he could and could not say. He looked right into Mike's eyes, those blue eyes, as he struggled to figure it out. For once Harvey looked less than confident, doubt swam in his eyes. 

Mike continued on, in a small and tight little voice. "And you needn't worry that I'll go gossiping to anyone. Really Harvey, who would I tell anyway? You and Donna are all I have. Nobody will hear about it from me." He looked away, mouth turned down. He looked so sad. 

This last part hit Harvey hard. It reminded him of how his puppy's entire support system was at the mercy of his and Donna's ability to handle this 'thing' maturely. The potential fallout could be huge, and Mike was right in the middle. He suddenly realized what an impossible position it would put Mike in should he and Donna end as less than friends. 

"And Harvey", Mike paused, biting his lip, looking up at Harvey as a cold hardness slipped into his eyes. "I know Donna is a grown woman, and awesome and all.. And I know it's _none_ of my business. But.. you know, for all that she can take care of herself, hell she could eat me for breakfast, but she's human too, right? She has a heart same as any other person. Don't.. don't be a dick. Alright? She's better than that." The associate was trembling now, holding onto his elbows with his hands. Stands to reason his rookie would be more worried about Donna than about himself. 

"Mike", Harvey said. Just that, just his name. And he saw a softness slip over his associate's pinched face, a brief relaxation of the tightness that had been there since Mike came in. He opened his mouth as if to say something, a hint of pain lurking in the set of his mouth and the expression in his eyes. Harvey leaned in, expectantly. 

And right then a key rattled noisily in the door and Donna came sailing in, a vision in green silk, a bag of groceries and bottle of wine in her arms."Hello, big boy" she purred, before catching sight of Mike and stopping short. 

Harvey cursed under his breath. "Mike", he said again, but the moment was lost. Mike jumped up and muttered something about it being time he left, his face closed and hard again, locked down. 

"Hi Donna", he said, harried and breathless, giving the tall woman a token smile, but not really meeting her eyes. "Sorry to rush off but I was just leaving, guess I'll see you Monday." 

He didn't look at Harvey as he walked quickly out of the door, but the older man followed him into the hallway, took hold of Mike's arm as they waited for the elevator to arrive, as if trying somehow to stop the smaller man from taking flight. "Mike", he said again, softly, a third time. Mike pulled his arm back from Harvey's grasp and gave a twisted sort of half smile, blue eyes shining in the darkened hall. "See you on Monday Harvey", he said, walking into the elevator and looking down, not holding his boss's gaze as the steel doors slid to a close. Harvey thought he had never seen anything so forlorn in all his life. His heart actually lurched inside him. God, but his puppy looked so totally alone. 

"Harvey?" Donna called from inside, a heartbeat later. "Can't find the darned wine opener". Harvey sighed softly, turned and, shaking off his mood, walked slowly back inside. 


	5. Strange Things Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike reflects on the morning-after spent with his one night stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning here for slight dub-con (more like being persuaded against better judgement) but wanted to tag for it in case it triggers.

As he rode the elevator down to street level after leaving Harvey's apartment, Mike felt like his heart was on fire. A couple of stray tears made their way slowly down his cheeks, and he wiped them hastily away. He was _not_ going to cry in Harvey's elevator, God Damn It! What the hell was wrong with him? Mike quickly exited the building, glad that the security guy was not looking too closely, since Mike was barely a whisker away from openly crying now. He had come here craving contact with Harvey, some comfort on a day where everything seemed to be going wrong. Harvey was his go-to place, his refuge in any storm. Even when the storm _was_ Harvey. But then Donna had arrived, and it was so clear to Mike now that she was the one who belonged here. Mike had no place here, or anywhere else for that matter. There was no place he belonged, not truly. There was nobody he belonged to either, and that sucked. It really sucked. 

***

Mike walked back the way he came, replaying this morning's events in his minds eye. To say he had been surprised at the apparition in his bedroom this morning would be an understatement. Mike just didn't really _do_ random hookups. It's not that he objected to them in principle, just never felt particularly comfortable with them. He was all about feelings, after all, and you didn't really do feelings with a stranger, not usually. Yes there had been some drunken adventures with Trevor, but somehow having his sometimes-boyfriend-mostly-best-friend-always-complicated buddy as a wingman had made it ok, taken things back inside Mike's comfort zone. And of course, there were the women he had chatted up when out with Harvey on those nights they were out 'celebrating'. But mostly he had just taken their numbers and promptly 'lost' them again, rarely taking any of them home. Not that Harvey knew that, he always left first, high-heeled glamorous model-type in tow, and probably assumed Mike was well provided with company of the one-night-stand variety. Mike really only played along not to look like a loser in front of Harvey - well, that and knowing full well he'd be bored and lonely while Harvey wowed his latest conquest and ignored his underling beside him. That would be just embarrassing. 

So when he found himself locking eyes with a handsome man across the room, and not just any room, his bedroom, he felt a bit conflicted. On the one hand he could not deny he was slightly turned on - well, morning wood and _hell yes_ the man was gorgeous - but on the other, it was kind of awkward that he knew absolutely nothing about him - not even his name. Not cool. Not to mention that the guy had in all probability just outed him to his (very-straight) boss. The boss whom Mike had just hung up on. _Oh shit! I hung up on Harvey Specter!_ In spite of the wave of panic this thought caused to wash over Mike, he was still cognisant of the stranger's body around the edges of the towel, slightly tanned skin, chest golden and hairless, not muscled exactly but well-built, with slender hips. But it was his face that arrested Mike's gaze. Lovely deep brown eyes warm with laughter, mid brown hair, worn short and pushed back off his face, slightly tousled from being dried after the shower. High cut cheek bones, definitely a looker. But he didn't remind Mike of anyone, no, absolutely not. Nah-hah. Nope. Not even a little. And the thing was, even though the strange man was undeniably handsome, in a very familiar way, Mike knew with absolute certainty that his heart really wasn't in it. He wasn't in the mood, he just needed to get rid of this dude and get his shit together, call Harvey back and apologise, hope he could talk his way out of whatever his employer might have heard.

The silence was becoming awkward now. "Umm.. good morning?" He tried, tentatively. 

The laughter in those eyes ratcheted up a whole level in one go. "Morning!" he said, and then seemed to take pity on Mike's confusion in an attractively smug kind of way. "Well, you were pretty out of it last night. I'm guessing you barely remember what happened.. right? Feeling a little shy all of a sudden?" The man let out an attractive, teasing chuckle. "You weren't so shy _last night_ Blondie!" 

"Don't call me that!" Mike blurted out, while frantically trying to check out what condition he was in beneath the twisted sheet, without the other man noticing. He almost sighed with relief, his boxers were on, which was a good sign, he doubted he would have gotten dressed again had they been removed last night in the heat of the moment. And he wasn't feeling any tenderness 'down there' so that was also a good sign. Please God, though, if they had done anything let them have had the sense to use a condom! 

The other man smiled, Mike's not-so-subtle checking having registered, along with the interplay of emotions from trepidation to relief on the young man's face as he went through the list. "Relax, we didn't go there. Leastways not yet. You were way too out of it for that. Anyway, the amount you put away, I was too afraid you were going to barf on me to try to take advantage," he said with a wave at the trashcan pointedly sitting on the floor on Mike's side of the bed.

"I can remember", said Mike. "I can totally remember." The man's grin just got wider. 

"Well just in case you are _are_ suffering some kind of amnesia, I can tell you that we got quite friendly in the back room of the bar last night, and while you seemed to really enjoy it - sorry about your suit pants, by the way - I'm afraid that was the extent of it. You asked me back but you fell asleep before the taxi was half way here. Not that I'm totally sure where 'here' even is! Had to man-handle you up the stairs and into your bed, seemed easier to stick around til morning than to try find my way back home at that hour."

"Brooklyn. We're in Brooklyn. And I'm Mike by the way" it seemed the quickest way to find out this man's name. Besides he was not putting up with 'Blondie' any longer than he had to.

"I'm Stephen," the brunette replied. "Why don't you hit the shower, I'm sure you'll feel better for it. Got any coffee?"

***

Mike dry-swallowed some painkillers before he showered and brushed his teeth, happy to be rid of the sock-taste, and it was true he felt slightly better having washed away the remnants of sweat, booze and - yes Stephen hadn't lied - dried-in semen. He felt strangely disconnected from his body, probably still coming down from the binge on alcohol. But more than that, he felt totally and utterly embarrassed. This guy, Mike was sure he was nice and all, but there was really zero connection, he couldn't even remember having kissed him, never mind anything else. A small part of his brain knew that in a better frame of mind he would definitely be appreciative of that warm body in his bed and a couple of hours of uninterrupted fun, forget about how well he knew the guy in question. Gift horse and all that. But that part was rapidly being overwhelmed by the thought that in all probability, _Harvey knew_. What was he going to say to Harvey? 

When he stepped back into the bedroom, dressed in fresh boxers and a tee-shirt, Stephen was sitting in the middle of Mike's bed. Mike wasn't at all sure how he felt about that. "You got a text message while you were in there", Stephen told him, looking at him with an easy smile. Mike retrieved his phone, it was Harvey of course. Mike sighed but in a way, he was relieved. He now had a very clear excuse to go. 

Except Stephen didn't seem to see the urgency. "Come on Mike, don't leave me hanging", he said, hands and mouth gentle and roving, when Mike started to mumble excuses about his boss' summons. "You know you like me. Last night you couldn't keep your hands off me, remember? What's half an hour more going to matter, he won't even notice. Hell, it's Saturday. Your boss doesn't actually own you, Bonded Slavery isn't a real thing any more, you know that, right?"

It's not that Mike didn't find Stephen attractive, and there was a brief moment when he hovered on the edge of a genuine wave of desire and his brain whispered 'why not' seductively. But hungover, tired, emotionally distraught with yesterday's realisation that he was in love with another man - his only real friend, a man who was completely out of reach, never mind that he was sleeping with Mike's second best friend - Mike had nothing left to give. His anxiety was rising the longer this man kept him in the room instead of being on his way to Harvey's. And by the time Stephen's erection was pressing up against his thigh, hands caressing his ass, Mike reached for any one of a hundred different responses but came up empty. Sometimes the quickest way through was the longest way home. He just didn't want to argue. What did it matter anyway? He rolled over and apart from requesting a condom, allowed Stephen to take what he needed. It wasn't awful, but had been quite a while for Mike, not to mention that this guy wasn't exactly small. Besides, the prep was a little hurried, so it wasn't a particularly comfortable experience, the slow burn had a sharpness in it, in spite of the other man making an effort on Mike's behalf. When it was over, Mike cleaned up in the shower, got dressed, and got ready to leave for Harvey's, an empty ache growing under his ribcage all the while. Stephen shot him a slightly perplexed look as he kissed him goodbye and left his number on a post-it on the kitchen counter. But apart from maybe thinking Mike was a little quiet, he hadn't seemed to notice there was anything wrong. 

***

 _Harvey_ , Mike thought. _I have to get to Harvey's_. So that is how he ended up knocking on Harvey's condo door, preparing for a Very Embarrassing Conversation, having hung up on and ignored a direct order from a boss who wasn't known for his patience, knowing what Harvey must think of what he'd just done, of why he was late. Then, just when he thought the day couldn't get much worse, it had and Mike found himself yet again outside and alone. 


	6. Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about what Mike saw in Harvey's office..

"Is our puppy ok, Harvey?" Donna asked once dinner over and they were sitting on the couch. "He looked a little lost there." He's not the only one, she thought privately to herself. Harvey had been distracted, almost solemn, over dinner. 

Harvey met her curious gaze and she could see the turbulence in his deep brown eyes. "I want to tell him Donna." 

Donna quirked one perfect eyebrow, her cue to keep on talking. 

"I know this is private for you, I know you didn't want anyone to know, but damn it, he thinks we are a couple now and you know that isn't true." 

"Harvey, we talked about this. It's not just about you and Mike. I've a lot _riding_ on this, ya know?" This last part was said with her sculpted eyebrows wriggling up and down salaciously. This was Donna, so yes, pun intended. 

"And what happens when or if this works, Donna? I mean, I went into this with my eyes open, when you told me you wanted to have a child, wanted me to father a child with you, to give you that, I was shocked, yes, but I was more than happy to do it. I still am. It's a privilege, and you'll make an amazing mother. And it's not like I'm likely to settle down and have a family of my own, so it's nice to think there would be a mini Specter in the world all the same."

He paused, eyes unusually soft. Then went on - "And like we agreed, I'll make sure you are ok financially, neither of you will want for anything. So I get to be cool uncle Harvey and everybody wins. But we both know that this isn't a relationship, not in that way."

They sat in silence for a while, Donna lost in thought. She nodded, once, and Harvey took it as a sign to continue. 

"But, what happens when you get pregnant and start to show and tell everyone the story about your affair with some guy who didn't stick around. Mike will _know_ it was me, he'll think I've abandoned you. He'll think I treated you badly. And I know I am a shit when it comes to relationships, but I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't leave a woman in the lurch and pretend it never happened. I don't want him to think that of me. And we all know Mike Bleeding Heart Ross! Of course he would be on your side. He'd never ever forgive me, no matter how ok you seemed to be about it all."

Donna sighed. She really hadn't planned on telling anyone, outside of herself and Harvey. It was a win-win, she would get to have a child, be a family. And yes, it would mean being a single mom, but she would have the advantage of a supportive - and very protective - friend who would make sure she and the child were provided for, and ok it wouldn't be the same as having a loving partner, but wow that gene pool was amazing, right? It beat the living hell out of a sperm bank anonymous donor, which was what she had been considering up until she had the brain wave of asking her best friend, Harvey Specter. And she'd be lying if she didn't consider going about this the 'old fashioned way' one of the, ahh _perks_ of the job. She was definitely enjoying that part, for as long as it lasted anyway. 

But when she thought about it, she could see that Harvey was right. Mike was hurting. And nobody hurt their puppy. They would have to include him in the circle of trust. To exclude him would only lead to friction between him and Harvey. And god knows, they needed each other. Donna knew everything. She knew they needed each other, even if they hadn't quite figured that out themselves. 

"Alright", she said, softly. "Tell the puppy. I know he can be trusted with this. But you have to be the one to tell him, not me. And just to be clear - if he goes all caring-Mike on my ass.. if he so much as tries to put a cushion behind my back, carry my Prada bag to the elevator or start to bring in kelp smoothies or that kind of shit, it will be open season. Got it?" 

Harvey's grin was warm and wide as an ocean. "Loud and clear", he said. But what he really meant was "Thank you" and Donna knew that too. 

Donna grinned as she pulled Harvey towards her, loosening the buttons on her dress as she went. Time for another round, the next 48 hours were optimal for what they were up to, after all. Timing was everything. She just hoped the steak dinner she had prepared in the condo's well appointed kitchen would help keep Harvey's stamina up, it was going to be a strenuous weekend ahead..


	7. Don't Look Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this was a hand of poker, Mike would have folded already. Or .. in which Mike finds out a bit more about his mysterious overnight guest.

Monday morning rolled round as Monday mornings tend to do. 

Mike had spent Sunday pacing his apartment and (barely) resisting the urge to visit the coffee cart guy who could sell him some weed. He felt jittery, angsty, at sea. Harvey had spent Sunday lounging on the couch in his penthouse condo in between bouts of strenuous activity with Donna, feeling also strangely at sea. And if he found he had to think about someone else entirely, someone all hard planes in place of soft curves and cascading hair, in order to close the deal with Donna for the fifth time that weekend, well.. nobody had to know. He would deny it if ever questioned, but that night, Harvey came loudly, if somewhat ashamedly, to the image of pair of deep blue eyes and the tight ripple of a biker's ass.

***

The highlight of Monday morning was a meeting with one of their most important clients, Don Everly. Mike had met him once before, several months ago. He was the head of a billion dollar company and his business was extremely lucrative for Pearson, Specter and Litt. So Mike was suited up and on his very best behaviour, checking that conference room C was well equipped with coffee and water and pens while Harvey went over the paperwork one last time.

Suddenly, Mike realised that he had left his phone on his desk. He knew it was unlikely anyone would be calling – Harvey was already in the room after all – but he hated to leave it unattended and run the risk of the other associates attempting to change the display language or set embarrassing ring tones for Harvey’s number. He took a quick glance at his watch and realised he had a few minutes before the meeting was due to start. He moved towards the door. If he was quick enough he could grab it and be back before the client got here.

Harvey looked up with a smirk. “Where do you think you are going Rookie? It’s show time”. But it was said without any real heat, as if it were just a reflex action. Harvey had been surprisingly mellow all morning. Mike wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, meaning the conversation from Saturday was over, they would never speak of it again, or if Harvey was merely biding his time. It was making him a little nervous.

Mike turned his head to look in Harvey’s direction as he replied, while his body continued moving swiftly towards the door. He had just managed a “I forgot my phone, won’t be a s-” when he collided full force with a surprisingly warm and solid obstacle, one with arms and legs and a head and.. “Blondie!” the head said, as strong arms came up to steady the young associate. It was said softly, but Harvey’s hearing was excellent. And he knew of only one person who might call his Rookie by that ridiculous name. His head shot up sharply from the file, keeping his face mostly under control even though his eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hair line. He felt a sharp surge of anger well up from somewhere under his Tom Ford suit. His eyes went hard.

Mike snapped his head around so fast it’s a wonder it didn’t cause whiplash. _Fuck!_ It _was_ Stephen. Mike blanched, his deep blue eyes impossibly wide, horrified. “Stephen,” he hissed, embarrassed and furious in equal parts. “This is my workplace! What are you doing? How did you even – I mean, you can’t just _turn up_ like that!”

“Sorry Mike, but I’m not here because of that, I’m-”

“Mike, you really need to keep your private life _private_ ,” said Harvey calmly, but his voice sounded cold, a hint of danger lurking in the undertones. He moved to stand beside Mike, fighting the irrational urge to forcibly remove this man’s hands from HIS associate. He glowered at the impossibly handsome interloper. “Whatever this is, it will have to wait, we are about to start a meeting. Please leave. Now.”

“Ah, there you are Harvey,” an older, distinguished looking man called out from the doorway of the conference room, oblivious to the tension in the air. Stephen dropped his hands from Mike’s biceps and stepped back slightly as the older man continued: “I see you’ve met my son-in-law, Stephen – Stephen Maxwell. High time you were introduced, we’ve decided it’s time he took on more of the workload.” There was a pause, as not one but two of New York’s finest lawyers were struck down by an uncharacteristic silence. _Son-in-law?_ Mike’s throat worked as he gulped, suddenly feeling his tie was too tight.

“Stephen is going to be heading up the New York division,” the man continued. “So he’ll be working very closely with you in the next few months while we set up the new product line.”

Mike seemed frozen in place but Harvey was more experienced in recovering poise in stressful situations, so he managed to move first. “Pleased to meet you, Stephen,” he said, icily polite, as he gripped the other man’s hand and shook. “I’m Donald’s lawyer, Harvey Specter, and this is my associate, Mike Ross. Please, take a seat”.

Two pairs of lawyers’ eyes were glued to Stephen’s left hand, as it settled on the table in Conference Room C. There, plainly visible, looking very much at home, was an obviously expensive and well-worn white-gold wedding band.

***

Mike gaped at Stephen for so long that even oblivious Mr. Everly turned to look at him, startled at his unusual behaviour. Mike snapped out of his reverie, somehow managed to get himself over to the conference table and levered his trembling frame into a seat. He couldn't believe this was happening. How could one man have such _phenomenally bad luck_? He risked one surreptitious glance at Harvey’s thunderous visage before burying his head in the documentation and staying that way for the rest of the meeting. All he could think of was how very badly he had screwed up, of all the people to take home, he had not only taken a client, but a married one to boot. The morning's activities with Stephen played over and over in his head at random moments, making him blush and blush. _God, this man has been inside me_ , he thought, not sure if the strange feeling this caused him was arousal or shame. Mike had no idea how he made it through the rest of the hour, oblivious to what had been said. Mike's insides were churning. Harvey didn’t look at him once but Mike knew that his boss was well aware that Donald Everly's son-in-law and the mysterious man Mike had met this weekend were one and the same person. What he probably didn’t know was that Mike had not even suspected the guy was married. Mike knew from Harvey’s history that cheating, sleeping with married people, was the one thing he found utterly inexcusable. He was going to be so mad.

Throughout the meeting, Stephen showed himself to be intelligent and well-up on the business, an eloquent and assured speaker, in spite of the otherwise strained atmosphere in the room. He was without doubt a self-assured man. He looked as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have been outed as married to his most recent sexual conquest, and to be a hair's breadth away from being outed as having made an ill advised (male) sexual conquest to his boss-and-father-of-his-wife. He looked anything but concerned. _Cocky Bastard_ thought Harvey, resisting the urge to throw something. Something very breakable. 

As the meeting wound down, there were only a couple of formalities that needed the client’s signature. Stephen pushed his chair back at this point and made to stand up. “Well, pops, I think you and Mister Specter have this part under control. If you don’t mind perhaps Harvey’s associate Mike might show me the way to the rest room while you finish up in here. I’ll meet you back at the car.” 

Mike hesitated, looked at Harvey, finding the older lawyer’s eyes drilling into his own. Harvey was definitely Not Amused. Then he realised he probably had no choice if they didn’t want to make the client suspicious, so he stood and said “This way,” leading the handsome _married_ man out of the room. Mike could feel Harvey’s eyes on them the whole length of the corridor thanks to the meeting room's glass walls, tailing them until they rounded the corner and disappeared from his view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, Mike's mystery man Stephen is not Stephen Huntley - that would have been an awesome idea, but couldn't work it into the timeline (thanks to the commenter who suggested it, though)


	8. With eyes of emerald green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout falls out

Mike maintained a steady silence all the way to the door of the restroom. Stephen could tell that the young lawyer was uncomfortable. He glanced quickly around to check nobody was watching before grabbing Mike forcefully by the front of his shirt. He backed up, hauling the younger man into the restroom behind him, fingers twisting themselves around that skinny tie. As soon as they were inside, he closed and locked the door.

“What the –“

“Relax, Mike. I’m not going to do anything. I just.. I wanted to see if you were ok. And to apologise. I figured this might be my only chance to do that since the way you’re glaring at me right now, I won't hold my breath for a call. Hey, I know what this looks like, I really do, but it’s not what you think, I promise!”

“And what exactly do I think, Stephen? That you used me to cheat on your wife, that you removed your god-damn wedding ring – your _wedding ring_ \- to trawl the bars in search of some guy too drunk to figure it out?” Mike’s voice took on a shrill overtone, he was practically spitting, and Stephen’s eyes filled with a soft regret.

“I’m so sorry Mike. It wasn’t like that, really." 

"You know, whatever! It was just a one night stand. It's not like it was going to _mean_ anything. Forget it." Mike shrugged and turned to go. 

"It may have been a one night stand" Stephen said quietly, hand still tugging on the lawyer's tie. "But it wasn't meaningless, not for me. Whether you believe me or not, I had no intention of ending up in your bed - for that matter, anyone's bed - that night. It's not something I do a lot of, you know. The bar we met in wasn't even a gay bar, for Chris-sakes. I was just there for a quiet drink before I went back to Don's Manhattan appartment. I was bored and feeling alone, but I wasn't trawling for anything." He sighed then before continuing: "I know you've no reason to believe me. But I saw you and you looked so sad, I wondered how a hot guy like you ended up sad and alone getting shit faced on a Friday night in New York City. I just thought you might like to talk, even if it was only to a stranger from out of town. And I was a little lonely too. Then we got talking and I really felt we hit it off, there was just something about you, something snarky and innocent and dirty and sad all at the same time, and I don't know why but it made me want to keep on talking. And when you suggested going to a club, I knew what kind of club you meant, and yeah I could have said no then, but by then, Mike, I really didn't want to."

He let go of Mike then, and Mike reflexively loosened the tie, top button popping open as he did so. He felt like the god-damned thing was strangling him. He swallowed. The restroom was perfectly silent for a while.

Giving up on Mike saying anything, Stephen decided to give it one last shot. "Look, I know you don't know me and you've no reason to trust me, but.. I would really like to talk to you properly - without the Tequila this time." 

Stephen's eyes looked sincere, as warm as they had been that morning when he was wearing nothing but a towel. Mike _wanted_ to believe him. He just couldn't get past the married-with-ring thing. He looked up and Stephen could see the doubt rolling off him in waves. 

"It's the married thing, isn't it?" he asked. 

"Kindof a deal breaker, sorry. Anyway, even if that didn't bother me - and it does, I mean I tried that before, it didn't end well, it just felt wrong - but even if I didn't have a problem with it, I don't think I'm allowed to date clients. There's, like, some rule of ethics or something."

"Well how about you come meet me for a coffee, during a break or after work. Just a coffee Mike, I swear. I'd like to explain properly how it was. I think you deserve that much. Not a date if you don't want that. But a chance to talk. I'd rather not end this conversation in a restroom, you know? And if nothing else we will have to see each other for business quite a lot for the next while, it would be better if those meetings weren't... awkward." Stephen smiled, and it moved his face from good looking to handsome in a heartbeat. Mike stared up at him, slightly mesmerised and utterly confused. 

“For what it’s worth, I wasn’t trying to fool you. And I had no idea you worked for Donald’s law firm. I would have told you or anyone else about being married if we’d been sober enough to talk properly that night, or if you’d actually rung me and we’d made it to a second date!” Stephen ran his hands through his hair, in a way Harvey never would, ruining the perfection, allowing the emotions to show. “The thing is, I hardly know you, but I... I really like you." Mike looked up at that, curiosity in his eyes. He thought he might just be starting to like this man too. This man who was a little like Harvey and yet nothing like Harvey at all. 

Stephen sighed, seeming sincere when he admitted: “How we met – I’m not proud of that. I don’t especially like one night stands. But Mike, I’m _not_ sorry I met you. Let me take you out again. Please? I promise I won’t end up in your bed this time! Give me a second chance?”

Mike found himself torn, almost ready to say yes. He believed in second chances after all, and oh, he _wanted_ to believe this handsome man standing in front of him, talking so openly about how he felt. To have a strong, eloquent man telling him he was interested, that he liked him enough to argue for him, that was a powerful form of persuasion for Mike. _Why the hell not,_ he thought. _I know he's married, but it's just coffee. And I think I deserve that explanation._

Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door and – of course – Harvey’s voice. 

“Open up, Ross, I know you are in there”, he yelled. He sounded angry. 

Stephen smiled softly at the stricken look on Mike’s face. “Come for coffee with me Mikey, ring me,” he pleaded, slipping his business card into Mike’s pocket. He didn’t know that although Mike had thrown out the post-it note from Saturday, having once read the number he would know it forever. Then the taller man was stepping away, smoothing down his shirt, opening the door and exiting the bathroom past a furious looking Harvey.

“Thank you Mr Specter, I look forward to seeing you soon. I’ll find my own way out, I think.”

And then he was gone and Mike had to do a version of the walk of shame past his boss, looking flushed and with his tie loosened and decidedly crumpled. His face flamed with embarrassment as Harvey looked him up and down, disgust written all over his usually handsome face.

“Fix your God-damn tie, Michael” was all he said, thin-lipped, fury contained in every syllable, before he turned and stalked away, not watching as Mike frantically re-arranged his collar and tie, his face a study in mortification and dismay.

***

"Harvey! Will you just wait a second?" Mike was trailing after Harvey down the corridor on the way back to Harvey's office. Harvey was ignoring him. "Harvey! Come on", Mike whisper-shouted. "This is not fair, I haven't _done_ anything. I didn't _know_ he was a client, _or_ married. You have no right to be pissed at me over this. Really! It's not like I, oh, I don't know, had sex with him in my office. Oh wait, right, that's funny because _I don't have an office_!"

Harvey swung around at that. "What I get up to in my office is none of your business. But _you_ ," and there was an accusation hidden in that pronoun, "when you are working the Everly account, you're representing me. Representing the FIRM. So get one thing Crystal Clear. You will not be having any more bathroom makeout sessions with that man, Mike. And I don't care what you knew or didn't know. You can _not_ date him. Not if you want to keep working here." And with that, he stalked off, conversation apparently over. Mike watched him go, sadly. The coldness, the fury, the disdain in Harvey's voice and face were like a knife being twisted. What did it matter, really. This was just another in a long line of nails that had been driven into the coffin that their budding friendship had become. Mike turned around and went in search of a stack of paperwork somewhere that might hold his interest long enough to distract him from the persistent gnawing ache that had taken up residence in his heart. 

***

Ignoring the question implicit in Donna's raised brow - no mean feat, the woman had been known to reduce grown men to tears with that brow - Harvey stormed into his office. Donna gave him 'the look' through the glass. He ignored that, too. "Harvey," she said over the intercom. "This is hardly reasonable behaviour. Mike hasn't actually done anything wrong." He pointedly reached over and turned off his intercom, briefly wondering how Donna knew _already_. He sat at his desk and pretended to work while he secretly struggled to calm down. When his heart rate descended into the 'less than panic-attack-inducing' range, he had to admit that his reaction to today's revelations had been a little over the top. Scratch that. They were bordering on the extreme. He was _so_ angry - pretty much his go-to emotion when he felt overwhelmed or upset about something. Alright, he knew he had 'issues' with infidelity. And the kid may not have known it that night, but he sure as hell knew it now - and _still_ indulged in some restroom shenanigans. That made his skin creep with the urge to just go hit somebody or yell at them repeatedly. But Damn It - why had the man been so .. horribly handsome. And agreeable. And intelligent and eloquent and self-assured and.. Harvey groaned and resisted the urge to bury his hands in his perfectly sculpted hair. He wasn't ready yet to let go of the anger that was coursing through his veins. But if he was being even slightly honest with himself, even Harvey would have seen the truth. It had nothing to do with Stephen. It had everything to do with _Mike_.


	9. Break Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes life consists of a series of very small steps.

Mike was more than a little pissed. For three weeks now Harvey had been giving him the cold-and-distant routine. They hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words. No fist-bumps, no movie-quotes, no celebratory drinks or honorary wingman duties. No chemistry. Harvey would glare balefully at Mike whenever the younger man appeared with case files in Harvey's office, and would send work via email or care of Donna - who had simply shrugged and refused to say anything at all about her boss's motives. 

At first, the loss of Harvey's good graces had made Mike incredibly sad. He felt lost, like there was nothing to connect him to anything even remotely real. It's not like he entertained any hope of Harvey ever returning his closeted affection. He had known that was impossible from the very night he realised how much he actually did care for the other man, the night he walked in on Harvey with someone else. But this was worse. Now he seemed to have lost Harvey's friendship, too - the one solid thing Mike had relied on in the world. For all that Harvey's approval was hard to get, when it came, it was like the sun appearing suddenly from over a distant hilltop. Warm and dazzling. And now that sun had set, possibly forever. Mike was desolate. He threw himself into his work, shifting files at record speed. He also pretty much stopped eating, or sleeping, couldn't concentrate without his mind slipping sideways into reveries of how delicious Harvey's latest suit was, or what amazing things he was doing with his mouth. At night he pushed his desperate fantasies back into their Pandora's box, but what sleep he managed to get was haunted by images of Harvey, always Harvey, and the strain was starting to show. 

Disappointment slowly changed to anger at being so summarily dropped by the great and powerful Harvey Specter. Because yes, the man was incredibly hot, unfairly handsome. But that didn't absolve him from the responsibility of being a decent human being once in a while. He really didn't need to be such a dick about this. He was in _no_ position to judge. 

It didn't help that Stephen had been such a frequent visitor to Harvey's office. Mike knew that Harvey often found reasons to keep Mike away whenever Stephen was due. It seemed petty, and also unnecessary, but there were enough times Harvey needed him there that Mike and Stephen got to sit at the same conference table, exchange small talk, and sometimes share an easy smile. Over time, Mike grew that bit more comfortable around the handsome client, who seemed not to hold a grudge that Mike had not called to make that coffee date. Mike had to admit, the attention was nice, for all that it ratcheted up the tension in the office with Harvey. It was nice to be able to talk normally to someone who seemed to actually _like_ him for a change. But it invariably left his boss in an even worse mood for the next 24 hours, and that was just no fun at all.

Tension grew between the mentor and his associate, until pretty much everyone could see the storm clouds gather. By the end of the twenty-first day, Mike had had enough. He was no longer sad, and no longer just plain angry. He was furious. The crazy kind of furious that does silly, impetuous things. Things you might regret when you're not so busy being blindingly, horrendously mad at someone you don't want to love but - Oh God how you - _do_. Pot was out of the question, so he turned his attentions to booze. Wary of further complications, he picked up a bottle of vodka (anything but scotch) from the store on the corner and went home alone. He sat on his beat-up sofa drinking himself into a state he knew he would regret come morning, but couldn't muster up enough energy to care. 

About half way through his first drink the silence in the tiny apartment started to get to Mike. By the time he filled his glass for the third time, he felt that he couldn't bear it any more. He picked up his phone. He dialled a number. This was a really bad idea. But Mike was just drunk enough and plenty sad enough to do it anyway.

***

Forty-five minutes later Mike was sitting on a comfortable sofa watching Manhattan get on with the business of living from behind the tall window panes. What was it with these high end condos and their views, he thought, numbly, as a pair of strong hands handed him a steaming mug of coffee. He looked up into chocolate eyes and a piece of his soul melted away. Who cared if he couldn't have Harvey, he thought. At least Stephen wanted him here. Stephen hadn't slammed the door in his face, insulted his ties or turned his back in fury over transgressions Mike hadn't even made. Or at least, not yet. Not yet. 

***

In spite of the vodka, that night did not end - as Mike had almost started, in spite of himself, to hope- in the slow, hot, desperate slide of skin on skin. Something told the older man that he needed to tread carefully, that Mike was on edge and that this wasn't the time for seduction. So Stephen put a DVD in the ridiculously expensive entertainment centre (not tv, Mike thought) and made some coffee and poured a lot of water and fed Mike toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches. Mike was torn between being touched that Stephen was being so nice to him, and guilty that they were somehow stealing a part of a ritual that had been Mike-and-Harvey's up to now. But then, DVD nights with Harvey had never felt this comfortable. They were edgy, filled with scotch and the need to somehow impress, impromptu quote-offs and sometimes, if Mike was lucky, pizza-with-cheese-stuffed-crust, but never - _never_ \- something as mundane, ordinary and downright homey as real home made sandwiches from scratch. Mike wondered why he felt at home here, when he only ever felt like he was at best a guest in Harvey's. 

The thought of what he had lost, or maybe of what he had never had in the first place, made him sad, so instead of dwelling on it, and definitely instead of wondering what Harvey might be up to with Donna that evening, he settled deeper in to the sofa and tried, for once, to forget. He and Stephen watched a truly forgettable action movie, sitting not-quite-close, but not too far apart, and had fun pointing out all the ludicrous plot holes and bad dramatization. Eventually Mike's tiredness took over and his head nodded, falling sleep, right there on a client's sofa. 

He woke up the next morning lying on the sofa with a crick in his neck, a blanket covering his legs, and not one single shred of regret.


	10. Points of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become both more and less clear - depending on where you're standing at the time.

Just as Mike was beginning to wonder whether he should just find his jacket and phone and leave, his host appeared in the living room, already showered and dressed. He took a minute to gaze appreciatively at Mike, sleep-soft and slightly rumpled from his night on the sofa, before he spoke.

"Morning, Mike. Hungry?" 

"Hmmm... you bet! But what time is it - I have to get to work before eight."

"Just after six fifteen. You've time for a shower, guest bath is just down the hall... Tell you what, I've no early meetings. I can get the car to drop you at your place or at your office, whichever you like, it'll be quicker - we'll even have a few minutes to talk over breakfast. Eggs ok? Or there's cereal if you prefer..."

"Eggs are good," he said, and Mike's small but genuine smile was a reward all of its own to Stephen, after the sadness that had been so evident the evening before. 

Fifteen minutes later, Mike was showered and re-dressed in the same suit, even if it was looking a bit the worse for wear. They were sitting companionably at the breakfast bar, eating eggs and toast and drinking strong hot coffee, freshly brewed. Stephen watched Mike attack his plate with gusto, pleased he was eating, since it was painfully obvious the guy had been skipping a few meals lately. He'd gotten even thinner, if that was possible. He hadn't looked good last night. It was clear that something was bothering him. Stephen knew it wasn't his place to pry, he barely knew the kid, and Mike was - at least for now - supposed to be out of bounds, something to do with lawyer-type regulations, according to Mike. But Stephen had a real soft spot in his heart for lost causes, and he felt the stirrings of a genuine concern for this young man. There was something about Mike that was setting off his protective streak, making him want to help, if he could. The associate seemed so lost and sad and alone - if Stephen was being honest, that was one of the things that had drawn him to speak to Mike that first night when he had watched the handsome-pretty face so resolutely drown his sorrows in shots of Tequila on the other side of the bar. 

Stephen took a breath, tamping down on the remnants of his attraction. Not that he wouldn't have liked to indulge some of those fantasies he had managed to accumulate around the shape of Mike's mouth or the way he moaned when being thoroughly kissed. But now quite clearly was not the time. Stephen had no idea if it ever would be the right time, but if there was any chance, Mike had to sort out whatever it was that was eating him first. _Well, you can never have too many friends_ , he thought. _Time to step up and try to be a friend for Mike, he looks like he could do with a good one._

"So, Harvey Specter. What's with the stick up his ass? Is he always like that?" Somewhere, Stephen could sense that whatever was going on, it had something to do with Mike's boss, the young man practically disappeared inside himself every time the glowering shadow of the hardass lawyer fell across his path.

Mike sighed. "Didn't used to be like that. He _used_ to be a friend, at least it seemed that way, now I'm not so sure." 

"What do you mean?"

And really, that was all it took for the floodgates to open, a warm smile, an innocent-sounding question and a comforting presence at his side. "When I went to work for Harvey, I left everything behind, I started fresh. And Harvey was the one who took me from my old life, you could say saved me. He was there for me. He was the only one who was there. We had this vibe, you know? Like we never said it but we _cared_ about each other. We had each others' backs. We were like freaking Batman and Robin. Only now - well, you've seen him. He can barely look me in the eye. The man can't stand to be in the same room as me, never mind hang out or even mentor me like he's supposed to. I think - I think he hates me."

"And when did it all change?"

"Honestly? The precise moment Harvey found out I sometimes sleep with guys. I mean, it kills me to think it, I never thought he'd be one of those closet haters. But it all changed right when he found out I'd hooked up with you." _Well,_ he thought, _that, and probably figuring out that I am secretly in love with him, it can't have escaped him how I reacted that night I walked in on him..._

"Well, I don't know about that, Mike. If you ask me, his motives lie somewhere a little closer to home. I think it's more.. ahh ... personal than that."

"What?"

"I mean.. has it ever occurred to you that maybe he feels threatened by our.. friendship? He is polite to me because after all I'm Donald's representative in these negotiations. But it's clear to me that he wishes I were anywhere but in that room, talking to _his_ associate. In fact.. the more I talk to you, the worse he gets. I've been noticing that for a while now. I thought maybe you and he.. "

"NO!" Mike's gut response was emphatic. "I mean, no we never - it wasn't like that- I mean. No. Just no."

Stephen just shrugged. "Mike, if me being your friend is going to disrupt your relationship with your boss, I mean, I would like to stick around and be a friend. But I don't want to be making even more trouble for you."

"No, the hell with Harvey. He can't dictate who I pick as friends, not any more. And.. I need more friends Stephen. Last night, I was going out of my mind. Just having someone to hang out with, no drama, it was just what I needed. But for what it's worth, I don't think he hates you - at least not for the reason you think. He has a _thing_ for infidelity. It's to do with his own history, which I won't go into because it's not mine to tell, but.. it's a big thing with him. So even though I'm single, and even apart from you being a man and all, I wasn't supposed to sleep with you." Mike's voice lowered on the next words, as he mumbled "Even though I actually didn't know at the time..."

Stephen decided it was probably high time to address that particular elephant in the room. They'd been skirting around it for a while now. "Mike.. I would really like to talk to you about that, about me being married. I wanted to a couple of times now, but your workplace wasn't the best location - and.. I got to thinking you weren't ever going to ring me to have that coffee." Stephen smiled at that, tilting the mug in his hand. "Well - I suppose this counts as 'having coffee', maybe. So .. will you give me a few minutes to explain?"

"Yeah, I'm listening."

"Well, I am married and I have been for a long time. Charlotte and I met when we were young, so very young. God, I loved her, I still do. She's been my best friend as well as my confidante, all these years. She was actually the first person I 'came out' to as bi. Truth be told, we grew up together. She's awesome, I think you'd like her. You may even get to meet her sometime - if you want to, that is." Stephen smiled at this, as if he really liked the thought. "But somewhere along the way we both figured out a lot of stuff about ourselves, about each other, and realised that even though we still very much love each other, we really aren't 'in love' any more. Believe it or not, she is the one who realised it first - and when she came to me, I didn't even want to admit she might be right. Made her try all sorts of things from date nights to kinky sex games to couples counselling. But we had just both moved in different directions, no fights, no animosity, just - the spark was gone." 

Stephen looked Mike right in the eye then, voice soft and face serious, when he continued to speak. "So, after I accepted that Charlotte, as usual, was just plain right about this, we agreed to call it a day on the intimate side of our relationship. For the record, though, I plan on staying married, for many reasons but mostly for our son - Dylan is ten in a couple of months. Sorry, I know that's coming left field, and I really should have told you about him sooner, it just never seemed like the right time."

Mike's face betrayed his utter shock at this news, somehow he hadn't even considered the possibility of _children_ \- but when he thought about it, it kindof made sense. Stephen did give off a very fatherly sort of vibe. _Oh God,_ thought Mike, _was that what last night was about, feeding me sandwiches and water and being all caring?_ It gave Mike a funny kind of feeling about the whole thing. Especially when he remembered that morning in his apartment the first time they had met. He decided not to think about that too closely, or maybe not at all.

"We both agreed to stay living together so we could co-parent Dylan, he's my whole world Mike, I could never leave him. Neither of us want him to be shunted between our houses, between our lives. So - we stayed married. But here's the thing, we didn't want to stop each other seeing other people. Maybe if either of us meet someone and want something more serious, we might re-consider. And Dylan won't be a kid forever. But for now, the arrangement suits us both." Stephen paused, then went on "It's really important to me that you know this, Mike. That you understand that I wasn't using you that night. I wasn't doing something secret or sordid or furtive. I don't want you to think I regret what happened, or to think I was trying to trick you. That's not my style. It's just - well, complicated."

 _You could say that again_ , thought Mike. 

***

At exactly ten past eight in the morning, Harvey Specter, New York's Super-Closer, was standing outside the offices of Pearson, Specter and Litt. He was reluctantly waiting in line at the coffee cart. He shouldn't have to wait in line, he thought. It was much more fun to steal Mike's coffee instead. Or it used to be. But Mike was nowhere to be seen. Harvey was earlier than was usual for the senior partner, sleep proving elusive these past few weeks. That and being practically chased from his bed by unwanted and frankly inappropriate thoughts about his damned associate. He was _not_ going to use Mike, Mike's face, his lean body, as fuel for his dirty little masturbatory fantasies. Just not. But cold showers only went so far. Harvey wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Day after day, wherever he turned, Mike was there, looking so damned _hot_ , making Harvey think of all the wonderful things he would like to do _to_ him, or maybe just _with_ him. Things that he would surely lose his job for, if anyone were to find out.

When Harvey had been sure his young (oh, so young) associate was straight, he had not given Mike a single thought in a sexual sense - well, he had noticed him, you'd have to be dead below the neck not to notice _that_ \- but it had been an impersonal kind of attraction. Nothing that didn't know its place. But from the very day Harvey had learned that Mike liked guys, well, whatever that initial attraction had been, it had broken its bonds and grown into something bordering on obsession. Harvey was not used to not getting whatever it was that he wanted. Before he even wanted it. Knowing that this hot young man would never be his, that they were divided by their positions, their history, the relative power difference between them, that was hard enough. But knowing that the biggest divider of all was another man, a _client_ at that.. that galled. It was almost more than Harvey could bear.

The past couple of weeks had been hell. Every time the kid looked around, Harvey found himself consumed by jealousy and anger and sudden jolts of lust. He hated feeling so out of control. He blamed Mike for even existing. For existing and not existing solely for _Harvey_. More often than not Harvey just _snapped_ at him. The mournful eyes his puppy was making at him were an exquisite torture for Harvey. And yet, like picking a scab, he couldn't seem to stop. Harvey did what he always did when confronted with something he couldn't have. He pushed whatever it was even further away and pretended he didn't want it after all. He would conquer this. He _would_.

As he waited, shuffling nearer to the nirvana of steaming, strong black coffee, Harvey idly noticed the long, sleek town car pull up to the curb. He saw (without seeing) the skinny young man who opened the door and stepped out. From some distant place, he recognised the hair, the suit - and wasn't that the same as the one Mike wore when he left in the day before? - without really joining the dots on what it meant. Until he saw the other man leaning half out of the open car door to give a quick but warm and somehow _intimate_ hug to the man-who-looked-like-Mike. His heart sank to his expensive leather shoes. It _was_ Mike. Being driven to work in yesterday's clothes by a handsome and wealthy man, one who could give Harvey a run for his money. A Harvey-with-feelings. Harvey felt something die inside him. God, he was _so_ screwed. 

***

When Harvey finally arrived back with his coffee, he ran into Mike exiting the restroom on the associates' floor, straightening his tie over his fresh suit. Evidently he had learned enough to start keeping a spare suit in the office, that much was gratifying at least. 

"Harvey," said Mike, nodding. Harvey barely grunted, but that seemed to be all the acknowledgement the younger man was going to get. As he walked into his office, Harvey caught Donna looking at him strangely. "You know, Harvey," she said, "you really need go a bit easier on Mike."

Harvey just glowered some more and refused to meet her eye as he shut the office door, sat down, and put his head in his hands and _groaned_.


	11. Tell Me Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey gets told a few home truths and makes a decision...

"Harvey?" 

The named partner looked up from the paperwork he had been trying and failing to understand for the past twenty minutes. His heart just wasn't in it. He saw that Donna was standing in the office doorway, a question in her eyes. Normally she didn't wait for an invitation, hell she was Donna, she didn't need one. But today - he guessed she could see that Harvey was not himself today. Harvey was glad of her forbearance. She didn't usually pull her punches, and somehow he didn't think he could take her being all Donna on him right now. 

He nodded to her to come in. She perched on his desk and gave him an appraising look. 

"Have you seen Mike today?" she asked. Okay, so she probably wasn't planning on going easy on him after all.

Harvey rolled his eyes and shook his head, went back to staring at the paper in his hands. 

Donna sighed, did a little eye roll of her own. This wasn't the first time she'd hinted at Harvey about this ridiculous situation with Mike, but she was going to make sure there was no room to avoid the conversation now. "Harvey, I know you don't like that he's seeing Stephen, if that's even what's going on, since you can't be sure because you never bothered to actually ask him. But what's this about, really? You weren't so fond of him seeing Jenny either, or Rachel for that matter, but it didn't put you off your game the way this has. What's really going on?" She had a pretty good idea, really. But this wasn't about confirming her fairly well-founded suspicions. This was about getting her emotionally constipated friend to admit he might just have - god forbid - actual feelings for his rookie associate. Since denial was working so well for him, right?

"Donna," he growled, a warning in his tone. Clearly not ready to go there just yet then. Donna sighed again. 

"You can't avoid this forever Harvey. The boy has done nothing wrong, well apart from possibly dating a client and I _know_ he's not the only one in this office to have broken that particular rule, right? Pot and Kettle come to mind, Harvey. So if it's not that, what is it - and don't give me the 'but he's married' line - I know you don't like that idea - but," and here Donna's voice dropped into 'deadly-serious' range - "Harvey, Mike's moral choices when outside of this office are not your concern. They would only _be_ your concern if you were part of Mike's life any more."Harvey's mouth tightened and he shot Donna a half pleading, half ominous glance. But Donna hadn't braved the lion to give up now. 

"As much as it pains me to say something you don't want to hear, Harvey, you are not exactly being a friend to him right now. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're punishing him for something - except you're not, are you? For some reason known only to Harvey Specter, you're punishing yourself! But Mike doesn't know you like I do. What do you think he makes of this? You're either openly hostile to him or else you act like he doesn't even exist. You know as well as anybody that the puppy lives for approval, for any little bit of it he can winkle out of you. And all you've done for weeks now is shout the odds or ignore him completely." Harvey had to admit she was right, he had been cold and withdrawn, and to a man like Mike, who thrived on affection, attention, and one who was so lonely and starved of friendship to boot, that must be hard to bear. 

"What do you think that is going to do?" Donna continued. "Bring him round to your way of thinking? Or push him even more towards someone who has made no secret of the fact that he _likes_ Mike and can offer what the kid seems to need. It's not like Mike has a lot of other people to fall back on now you've pulled the Harvey-rug from underneath his feet. You know that. What's the kid supposed to do? You're not being fair to him, Harvey. You need to get over yourself. Either get past this Stephen thing and start being a mentor, a friend, to your associate again, or cut the damned kid loose. Let him choose Stephen, or anyone else for that matter. Let him try be happy. You're bigger than this Harvey. I know you are."

"So that's it?" he growled. "Let him choose a _married_ client - a client Donna - and give my fake-blessing, or else - what? - claim him myself? Be his Stephen? That's preposterous and you know it. That's not a choice Donna." His voice dropped to almost a whisper, eyes flashing as he said "I _can't!_

"Well then find a way to live with whatever it is that you're tormenting yourself with and find a way to make your peace with Mike. If you don't, you'll lose him anyway Harvey. There's only so much even a puppy like Mike will take." And with that, she walked out of the room, door swinging silently shut in her wake. She'd said her piece. Now all she could do was wait and see if it worked.

***

Harvey stayed in his office for a long time, paperwork forgotten on his desk. Eventually the shift of light on over the city signalled afternoon changing to evening, and still Harvey had not moved. Donna was right. But Harvey could no sooner give Mike up than he could claim him as his own. The moment at which he could have walked away from his crazy, clever, impetuous young associate had long since passed. But what did that leave? The ongoing torment of sitting in the sidelines and watching, fake smile on his face, reminded over and over again of what he wanted but could not have? It was a no-win situation. So maybe it was time to pick the lesser of two evils. He knew now what he had to do. Things just didn't work without Mike. Nothing worked any more. He had to find a way to get back to solid ground with the kid. Even if it meant torturing himself to do it. He had to fix this. Somehow.


	12. Hard frost makes way for pretty flowers bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey tries to win back lost ground with Mike; At the same time, Stephen and Mike's friendship deepens

Having come to the conclusion that he needed to mend things with Mike, Harvey found that bridge-building was perhaps easier said than done. He figured it would just make Mike suspicious if his boss began out of the blue to simply act like none of this had ever happened. And guaranteed, that would make Mike 'want to talk about it' - the thought alone made Harvey shudder. But Harvey wasn't good at slow-and-subtle. He was a go-get-em kindof guy, every time. His technique was smooth and obvious in equal measures. And it had never failed him yet. But here, he was decidedly out of his comfort zone. The tension between him and his associate was so thick you could levitate on it, so Harvey reminded himself to start small. When he met Mike the next morning in the corridor, he nodded and simply said "Michael" in a voice that managed to not sound like there was a thunder storm lurking over the horizon. It was barely a fraction above civil, but it seemed to do the trick, Mike stuttered out a muffled "Harvey" and snapped his head around to follow his boss's progress down the hall. Harvey congratulated himself on a manoeuvre successfully executed. Who said he couldn't do subtle? 

Later that morning as Mike dropped off yet another set of files with Donna, Harvey sauntered out just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation. "Mike," Harvey said, and again, lacking any sense of menace in his tone, prompting Mike's eyebrows to dart rapidly up towards his hairline. "I have a meeting with Stephen Maxwell at three pm today, can you check over the financials and meet us in the big conference room please?" Harvey did a small internal gloat at having worked a 'please' in there. But when he caught Mike's shocked face, he thought perhaps he had over-reached a little and countered with a more familiar growl of "And Rookie, don't be late!" Having thereby restored the balance in the Universe somewhat, Harvey turned and went back into his office, leaving Mike confused and Donna shrugging as if to say, 'well, don't ask me!'

Of course, sitting with Mike as he chatted happily away to Stephen was a much harder thing to actually do. When he had invited Mike, he had meant it as an olive branch, a form of apology and acceptance all at once. But now that he had to sit and watch that nauseating display of manly affection and mutual trust.. well, it made him glad the meeting would be a short one - there was, after all, only so much a guy could bear. At least without stabbing a client in the eyeball with his Mont Blanc. Harvey did the adult thing though, trying his best not to be surly as he resolutely sucked it up. And hoped the other two were too busy _gossiping_ to actually notice the times when he failed. 

***

To say Mike was shocked when Harvey - voluntarily - invited him to a meeting room that had Stephen in it would vastly under-estimate his surprise. He thought about it all day - over-analysis was his forte after all - and still couldn't really find a valid reason for Harvey's behaviour. He half thought his boss might be jerking him around, and planned to change meeting time or location at last minute so he wouldn't be able to find them. But no, the time and room were both correct, and Stephen was indeed sitting happily in the conference room, looking equally surprised to see Mike. They had a very pleasant meeting (helped along by the very nice pastries Donna had appropriated from the partner's lounge) and although there were awkward moments, they were few enough that the atmosphere seemed lighter, and after a while, Mike felt safe enough again to breathe.

Where Michael had been thrown into a vortex of second-guessing himself, however, Stephen was happy to take Harvey's change in demeanour at face value - as a change of mind, if not of heart, by the controlling Partner. Stephen was just glad that the arrogant SOB had finally - he hoped - stopped torturing Mike for giving Stephen the time of day. Stephen approved of anything that made Mike happy - or even just made his life a little bit easier. Stephen knew he was on dangerous ground here. He knew he was in danger of developing _feelings_ for the younger man. But he'd been around the block a few times, right? He knew how to take care of himself. Only - there was something about that kid. He just couldn't put his finger on it. But he knew enough to know that the man who finally won Mike's affections would be one lucky bastard. Somehow he didn't think it would be himself. But that didn't stop him from showing the kid what a real friend was. If nothing else it would give him something to compare his boss' behaviour to - oh yes, Stephen was under no illusion as to who Mike was so hung up on. He wasn't _blind_. But as devastatingly handsome and self-assured as the other man was, Stephen was confident in his own abilities, and knew he had a lot to offer. He was willing to play the long game, even if he wasn't so happy with the odds.

***

Things at work just kept on improving for Mike. He wasn't sure what had changed, but it seemed the older man had finally decided to forgive him. Things hadn't returned to their former warmth by any means, but they were no longer so horribly frosty either. And every day seemed to help the thaw just that little bit more. Mike could admit to feeling a little anxious - unsure how long the cease fire would last, nervous lest he do or say something to put his foot in it and ruin the fledgeling peace that had settled between himself and his beloved boss. But he wasn't about to complain. Harvey's friendship, his regard, meant the world to Mike. He had barely survived its withdrawal in the past few months. He wasn't about to do anything to upset the apple cart now. 

Harvey for his part was unused to this strange new territory. He had the sense he was feeling his way blindly in a sea of emotion, something he was by no means used to. He didn't do slow and he most definitely didn't do forgiveness. And yet, here he was, doing both and what's more, trying to do it graciously. By times it was a bitter pill. But he at least had the satisfaction of seeing his puppy begin to lose that anxious _kicked_ look. His associate seemed more at ease, like he was eating and sleeping on a more regular schedule than before. If nothing else, he was grateful that Stephen was evidently feeding the younger man, judging by the number of times Harvey spotted Mike leaving before 9pm and getting into a now familiar - if hated - rental car. And if something else went on after the feeding? Well, Harvey decided resolutely not to think about that. It was none of his business after all. 

***

By now, Stephen and Mike were indeed seeing each other on a more frequent basis. With Harvey no longer actively opposing their friendship, Mike felt free to enjoy the time that he spent with the fascinating older man. Time with Stephen was uncomplicated, and a lot of fun. They did stupid, dorky stuff together, watching movies, going to art galleries, hell, even doing laundry together on a Saturday had turned into a nice way to spend some downtime. This week they had gone to check out a visiting exhibition that had seemed interesting in the brochure but had turned out to be a big disappointment in the end. Not that Mike minded - he still had an excellent evening, Stephen's attempts to stifle groans at how bad the art was while simultaneously complimenting the artist in question had Mike running for the nearest pot plant to hide behind and give vent to his laughter in peace. The thing was, being around Stephen was easy, almost too easy. It would be so easy to fall into something with this man. But deep down Mike knew he didn't have anything to offer, his heart was not free. Not yet, at least. His mind told him Stephen was the logical choice. But his heart - well, unfortunate as it may be, his heart still belonged to Harvey. 

Mike was enjoying a well-earned glass of wine with his dinner - of course he preferred beer, truth be told, but Stephen quite liked wine. Mike liked how Stephen didn't try bring him to fancy restaurants, trying to dazzle him with his style and sophistication (or maybe just the size of his wallet). The nicest times were when Stephen brought him to the small but elegant apartment the company rented in Manhattan and cooked a simple meal that they could enjoy in peace, sometimes in front of the tv, mostly with some music playing softly on the sound system. Mike also appreciated how Stephen never once tried to pressure him into something more intimate. Well, that was ironic perhaps seeing as how this had all started out with him dry-humping Stephen's leg in a seedy nightclub back room while simultaneously trying to kiss him senseless. But as much as Mike knew that Stephen would like this to develop into a _proper_ relationship, he also knew that if that never happened, Stephen would accept it without being overly hurt. Mike had no illusions about the kind of easy affection that was developing between them. It was nice, real nice. And much as he didn't want to ever hurt Stephen, he found the closeness, the kindness, the concern, a little bit addictive. _God-damn-it,_ he thought, _why did he have to be so hung up on Harvey? Here was a perfectly good man, handsome, witty, good company, nice and also available (well, ring apart) and strange as it may seem, someone who **liked** him, sought his company, without ever asking for more. What the hell was **wrong** with him? _

"Penny for them, Blondie?"

Mike sighed. "Just thinking how lucky I am to have a friend who is willing to wine and dine me and put up with my shit, without expecting me to put out at the end of the night," he said, with just a hint of defeat behind the words. 

Stephen looked at him, holding his gaze. "Mike, you know how much I like you," he said. "And that goes for I-like-hanging-out-with-you as much as it does I-like-the-way-your-ass-looks-in-those-pants, I think you know that. But much as I find you attractive, much as I _like_ you, I don't want to be with someone who's secretly wishing I were someone else. I won't do that to myself. Or to you." He laughed a little at that. "Kindof been there, done that. You know?" Mike nodded - he really did know. "So," the taller man continued, "I'm more than happy to just enjoy the time we have. We like each other, we have fun. It beats either of us sitting alone at home watching re-runs of things we missed for a reason first time round. Right? I don't have many friends in this city. I like having you around. I know the score. You don't have to worry about how long before I start asking for more. " 

Mike looked at this lovely, gentle, funny man and his heart nearly broke at the missed opportunity he represented. If he even thought for a moment he could be what Stephen wanted him to be, he'd do it in a heartbeat. But he knew as surely as he knew that night follows day, that Harvey Specter would only have to raise one elegant eyebrow and he would follow, regardless of the mess he left behind. So as much as he liked this man, right here in the room, warm and incomprehensibly _liking_ him, Mike knew this was one thing he should not - would not - do. He would not risk Stephen's happiness for the sake of whatever small comfort his warm arms could afford. No matter how much he craved even the slightest touch. He would allow Stephen's friendship to warm his tired soul, but Stephen's love, his touch, could not kindle a fire deep inside his heart. No matter how much either of them wished it so. 


	13. Not-kissing-but-drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three men, much pressing of lips...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are a thousand reasons Stephen and Mike should not get close and personal.. but.. I really couldn't help myself!

Harvey should have remembered his mother's advice, all those years ago. People who eavesdrop deserve what they hear. Well, he hadn't exactly eavesdropped, but he had done something he really shouldn't have and now he was paying the price. It was impossible to un-see what he had just seen. And he couldn't even tell anyone about it. He wasn't meant to have seen it, after all.

It had started innocently enough, a messenger had been asking for Mike at reception as Harvey was passing the front desk on his way back from a client meeting down town. He had immediately offered to sign for it and take it up to him, frowning slightly when he saw that it was a sandwich in a paper bag, but one that almost looked home made, along with a couple of pieces of fruit. It didn't look very professional. "Are you from one of the local sandwich bars?" he asked the delivery guy. "Nah, I'm a bike messenger", the young man said. "Client paid us to deliver this. There's, uh, a note, too," he said, passing the note over to Harvey. Perplexed, Harvey took possession of the paper bag and the small envelope and told the messenger he would take care of it. He rode the elevator, his curiosity growing apace. He had to stop in his office to leave off his briefcase, and he noticed that Donna was out to lunch. The note in his hand began to taunt Harvey. It was literally burning a hole in his brain. Just a peek, he told himself. He knew he shouldn't. He _knew_ it. But the urge was almost overwhelming and Harvey was only human after all. Nobody would know. It wouldn't hurt to take a little look...

 _Hi Blondie ;)_ the note began, triggering one of Harvey's infamous eye-rolls. _Sorry I had to bail on our dinner plans tonight. Don't laugh, but I made you these - yes, made as in made them myself, it's your favourite. Well, somebody has to make sure you eat.. I've only just managed to fatten up your skinny ass, I'm not about to let it fade away again because of a stupid client meeting. And yes - I know - your ass is awesome, yada, yada. :) Now be a good boy and eat - I made enough for lunch and dinner- since I'm pretty sure you'll bury yourself in the file room again and forget what time it is! Finish the fruit as well, ok? And lay off the RedBull, that stuff will kill you! Call you tonight. X_

Harvey regretted it the instant he had finished reading the words scrawled on the elegantly folded paper. The note was so - intimate, it spoke of an easy familiarity and a hell of a lot of teasing affection. It was built on an endless stream of dinners and lunches and getting to know favourites and just plain _caring about_ Mike, so many memories and shared moments layered in between the sentences. It made him want to cry. And the thing about Mike's ass, well, that was just the last thing Harvey wanted to hear Stephen comment on. The very idea of Stephen having anything to do with Mike's ass was repugnant to him. It underlined for Harvey just how little claim to Mike he had, how little right he had to even think about Mike in those terms. And as for the 'good boy' - Harvey couldn't even - it was too much! The wily lawyer knew he should have been glad Mike had someone who was so obviously looking after him - since Mike so rarely put his own needs first - but Harvey couldn't even lie to himself about this. He was jealous. And he only had himself to blame. It made him so god-damn mad!

***

Harvey resisted the urge to drop the bag and note straight in the trash can, and took them over to Mike's desk. The look of surprise and sheer delight that came over his associate's face when he opened the note made Harvey feel even worse. Maybe that's why he blurted out a rushed "Wannagogetadrinksorsomethingtonight?" to a very surprised Mike, before he'd even had a chance to finish reading the note. _Suave, Harvey, very suave_ he thought. _"You're acting like an infatuated teenager, get a grip!_ Mike stared at him, evidently confused at this change of pace. _Fuck,_ Harvey swore to himself, _you were meant to be taking this slowly, whatever happened to subtle?_

Mike's searching eyes must have seen something in Harvey's face that satisfied his silent line of questioning, though, since he relaxed slightly, smiled a tentative kind of smile, and cleared his throat before saying "Uhh, yes?" as if it were a question instead of a reply. "Where would you like to go?" Harvey resisted the urge - such a strong urge - to say _My place!_ and instead mentioned a bar within walking distance of the office but known as a relatively quiet spot, not somewhere they were likely to be bothered by any of the associates or partners out looking to unwind after a stressful day in Pearson, Specter and Litt. "I'll swing by at eight," Harvey said. And with that he was gone. Truth be told, he didn't trust himself to stay. His blood was singing in his veins, this was a million times better than a win in court, any day. 

However, the long (so long) afternoon through which Harvey had to suffer, twitchy and irritable, gave the Named Partner more than enough time to think about all the reasons why Mike was still very much Out Of Bounds. Yes he might be regaining lost ground with the kid, but that didn't mean he could jump him. No matter how jealous he was. And yes, he was self-aware enough to admit - at least to himself, though it was not something Donna would _ever_ hear from his lips - that he was jealous of Stephen Maxwell. Harvey's elation began to wind itself down to something more like his previous state of hopelessness. Still, he thought, even if all he could offer Mike was friendship, at least he could have that. It would go a long way to satisfying that bone-deep ache that had made its way into his soul ever since he and Mike had stopped being... well, him and Mike. 

At exactly one minute to eight, Harvey came striding towards Mike's desk, looking just as hot as Mike remembered. Mike couldn't believe the about-turn Harvey had made. Sure, his boss had been slowly defrosting these past few days, but - going out for drinks? They hadn't done that in so long. _Not since that horrible night when you found out about him and Donna, anyway!_ Mike's brain not-so-helpfully provided. Whatever, Mike wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when this was the first time in months that the other man had expressed a willingness to be in the same room as him, without looking like he could smell something that had crawled in a corner and died. 

The bar was quiet and cosy, discrete in an expensive kind of way. The lights were dim and the booths were relatively private. Harvey was surprised how difficult he was finding it to turn on the patented Specter charm. He didn't usually have to work this hard to entertain a guest, of either gender. But then, the rules always had been turned on their head when it came to Michael Ross. He sighed and resisted the urge to gulp his scotch. Harvey Specter didn't gulp. But slowly, slowly, the nervousness began to leech away. Bit by bit the two men began to bridge the gaps that anger, jealousy and misunderstanding had excavated beneath their feet. The air between them warmed, began to hum with overtures of friendship. They started to approach something a bit more like solid ground. A wonderfully gentle laugh spread across the hard knot of Mike's apprehension. He began to relax. This, he could do. 

But somewhere between his second and third drink, without concious volition, Mike began to focus more on Harvey's hands, his delicious hands, than on his words. God, he had missed seeing those hands. He fought the urge to take one in his own hands just to feel the taste of skin on skin. Wonderfully wicked images assaulted his imagination. He could see, almost feel, those hands slipping so very slowly across his naked body, those clever fingers doing unspeakable _things_ to him. Mike felt himself flush, and realised to his dismay that this train of thought had made him achingly hard, desire welling in the pit of his stomach. Oh, this was a very bad idea. Another hour and two more drinks and somehow they were sitting _awfully_ close together, voices low and husky - and how did that happen? Mike now found himself strangely distracted by the other man's quirky mouth, staring at it longingly. Whatever it was saying (and Mike hadn't the slightest idea what that might be any more) only made Mike want to.. want to.. lean in.. and.. suddenly, suddenly, without any way to stop himself, Mike's lips were slipping inexplicably closer to Harvey's, until - _Oh God_ \- their lips met in a desperate press, warm and dry and - _Shit, Harvey was pulling back. Oh No! What did I do? FuckFuckFuckFuck!_

Mike panicked. He leapt to his feet, the weight of reality crashing down on him again. He could see Harvey's lips moving, shock written on his handsome face, but he had no clue what the man was even saying, though he thought it might have been his name. Blood rushing in his ears, blushing furiously from toes to ears, Mike turned on his tail and fled. By the time Harvey had pulled out his wallet and thrown some bills on the table to cover their tab, it was too late. Mike was already gone.

***

By the time Mike's cab pulled up outside Stephen's apartment, he had left panic behind and was well on his way to frantic. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His heart was pounding out of his chest and he felt like he was going to die, right there on Stephen's doorstep. Thank God Stephen was home. He opened the door wearing a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, evidently surprised to see a dishevelled Mike standing there. "What -" was all he managed to get out before Mike was pushing his way in, half sobbing, gasping for air and looking like his whole world had just collapsed around him. Stephen took one look and decided explanations could wait. He did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his long, comforting arms around the younger man and held on for all he was worth, making vague shushing noises and rocking them slightly to and fro. Mike's sobs reached a crescendo as he clung fiercely to Stephen's chest, shaking and incoherent. He lifted wet eyes, pain spilling out onto those silky lashes. He saw only a kind and gentle friend who was looking at him with so much care and affection. He saw comfort, warmth, a safe place to land. _Fuck it,_ was all he could bring himself to think. In a split second of pure need he closed the gap between them and for the second time that night, pressed his trembling mouth to the warm swell of another man's lips. 


	14. What do you want? What do you need?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes what you want is really not what you need - and what you need is probably not what you want .... And sometimes, you just can't tell the difference...

Stephen reeled at the unexpected onslaught. He gasped in surprise against Mike’s frantic lips, as if caught off guard. Instantly Mike’s tongue was right there, pressing into his mouth, hotly demanding. Stephen groaned, trying to ease back from the intense grip, the maddening warmth of Mike’s mouth, the quick surge of his tongue. But his young friend had a death grip on his t-shirt and he found himself being pushed urgently backwards as Mike made a choked, guttural kind of sound in the back of his throat. Mike plastered himself the entire length of Stephen’s body, pressing the other man firmly into the wall and kissing him as if his life depended on it. Stephen groaned, carried away in a moment of pure response, pure lust, heady and intoxicating. God he _wanted_ this, had wanted it for so long. His body began to react, without his volition, his arms drew Mike in, his hips bucked up into the solid weight of _Mikeness_ pushing so wonderfully against him. God, the man was delicious. 

For an instant, he was lost. But only for an instant. All at once, his brain caught up and he realised that Mike was most definitely _not alright_. “Mike,” he whispered. “Mike, I – I can’t. Stop. Stop, Please.” Getting his hands up onto Mike’s chest, pushing the desperate young man gently but firmly away, that was the hardest thing Stephen had ever had to do. God, he hated having to do this. But he did it anyway. _Not like this,_ he thought, _I won't take him like this when he is upset and hurting. That's not how I want this to be between us._

With a supreme effort of will, chest heaving with desire and emotion, he peeled Mike away from his body, held him gently at arm's length and waited for him to speak. He saw Mike's face fill with the most unspeakable pain, could actually see the minute he realised that Stephen was rejecting him. It nearly broke Stephen's heart but no matter what, he knew he could not step back into Mike's embrace again. It might seem like rescuing him, but it wouldn't be. It might seem like comforting him, but Stephen knew that forcing yourself to be with the wrong person when you're hurting for someone else was shallow comfort at best. But the look on Mike's face, the despair at yet another rejection, at not being good enough, at having nobody left to turn to, nobody who loved him.. it killed Stephen to see that. And when he caught the wave of self-loathing, self-disgust, embarrassed mortification, wash over Mike's beautiful features as he began to turn away, ready to flee - knowing he would by now be feeling foolish and useless and a thousand other horrible things - that, he couldn't bear. He refused to let Mike pull away, began to plead with this distraught young man, his voice broken and hushed, a prayer whispered over and over again, as his hands sought to soothe, to stroke, to wipe the tears away. "No, no Mike. It's not like that. It's not that. You're so beautiful. You're perfect, Mike. Mike. Don't. Shhh. Don't leave. It's okay. It's okay Mike. I want you. I do. Just - not like this. Not like this, Mike. Please."

***

Harvey cursed and cursed again. Why had he pulled away from Mike? He'd dreamt of this moment for months now, how could he have let his shock, his surprise, ruin the one chance he might ever have had to drag Mike into his hungry arms, to hold on and never let him go? But he had wanted to talk about the kiss, had wanted - needed - be sure what Mike had meant by it. Above all he had wanted to know why Mike would cheat on Stephen. Harvey couldn't abide cheating, he would not be a party to that. He wanted Mike, Oh God, he wanted him. But not like this. Not on the back of somebody else's broken promises. Harvey played it over and over in his head. Was it just Mike getting carried away, was it just the alcohol? He groaned. He felt like he'd been shown the whole universe on a silver platter only have it whisked away just before he grasped it in his hand. It felt cruel. He felt betrayed but didn't know why. Harvey briefly considered calling the dark haired waitress who'd passed him her number last week, thinking maybe she would help him forget about this disastrous evening, even for a while. But knew that would be a mistake. She wasn't the one he wanted, she could no more answer the need that was twisting deep in his soul than he himself could turn back time and change what had just transpired. He cursed himself inwardly all the way home in his expensive, chauffeur-driven car. 

***

In her apartment, surrounded by files and papers, Donna consulted her calendar. She counted up the dates in her head. She checked her temperature charts and confirmed the timing for the next intervention. She sighed softly. Almost three months in, and this was not exactly working out as she had planned. She knew something - something big - was up with Harvey. They were going to have to talk. And soon.

***

Mike and Stephen were sprawled in a messy heap on the sofa, Mike clasped tightly in Stephen's arms, his head pressed into the older man's neck, face resolutely hidden from view. Mike's hands were twisted tightly in the fabric of Stephen's t-shirt, as if he were afraid to let go. He was sobbing intermittently and his tears had already made a sizeable damp patch on Stephen's top. He shook and trembled and sobbed and couldn't seem to get a single coherent word to pass his lips. Stephen continued his soft litany of whispered assurances as he gently patted and stroked and rubbed. And most of all, he waited. He knew Mike would eventually run out of tears. 

***

"What do you need, Mike? What can I do? Tell me!" Stephen whispered into the shell of Mike's ear, hours later, after the sobs had finally subsided and Mike's breathing had evened out again. "Fuck me, please Stephen, just fuck me. Make me feel _something_. I need it, I need to be touched, to be _wanted_." Mike was practically begging now, and it was so hard to resist his entreaties. "Please Stephen. Please?" Stephen sighed. "I don't think that will help, Mike. Trust me on that one. You'll wake up feeling hollow and empty and used. I know what I'm talking about here. Believe me. And you'll resent me, even if you think you won't. Piece by piece I'll lose you until you can't bear to look at me any more. I can't lose you Mike, you're too important to me. I know I can't have you, not the way I want, but I won't throw our friendship away, either. I can't, Mike. I just can't. I felt bad enough when I realised that time in your apartment, that you were doing it for all the wrong reasons. I can't do that to myself again, Michael. I won't be the one you use to find false-comfort with and then grow to despise for not being someone else instead."

Mike sighed. He didn't want to hear what Stephen was saying, but he knew his friend was right. He needed the comfort, the validation, but the price for Stephen, for their friendship, was too high. It was too much to ask. And he was also right - most likely - about it not even helping in the first place. Mike had thrown himself at the wrong person one too many times not to be well aware of how horrible it would feel the next day. He tightened his grip on Stephen. "Then take me to bed, hold me. Just hold me close and let me have that much. Please. I can't bear to be alone. I feel so horribly alone." Mike buried his head in Stephen's shoulder again, pressing close, so close. Stephen didn't have the heart to refuse him, even though he knew that in such tight proximity, it would be a kind of exquisite torture to keep his hands off Mike while waiting for the first light of dawn. 

Slowly, he moved himself out from under Mike's exhausted body. Using his body weight as leverage, he grasped Mike's hands and pulled the young man onto his feet. Collecting a spare t-shirt for Mike to sleep in on the way, Stephen lead him towards the bathroom and told him to use the spare toothbrush under the sink. He waited outside while Mike got ready for the night, gathering strength from the cool solidness of the bathroom door behind him. When Mike was done, Stephen took his place and quickly got ready for bed, noting how Mike hovered just outside the open bathroom door, like he couldn't bear to be too far apart right now. Once done, he tucked Mike up against his side, and noticed how the other man leaned silently into his solid weight, his head resting on Stephen's well defined chest. Stephen tried to ignore the unwanted thought of how well the younger man fit there, and steered them both over to the bed. As if he knew Mike wouldn't react well to the even momentary loss of contact needed to walk around to his own side, he climbed into the bed on Mike's side, then scooted across to make space, Mike following closely behind. He hit the light switch and plunged them into semi-darkness, as he wrapped his friend in his arms once more and settled onto the pillows. The whole thing had been done in absolute silence. There was no need for any words between them now. Just a timeless, wordless giving and taking of comfort in another's touch. 

Mike wrapped himself around as much of Stephen as he could find, hands reaching under Stephen's top, seeking the reassurance of skin, coming to rest over the reassuring thud of Stephen's heart. Knowing that this was about comfort, not sex, did not help Stephen find sleep easily. The warm weight of Mike's body entwined with his own, the delightful smell of him, the aftershocks of their kiss still thrumming through his body, were almost too much. The tantalizing knowledge that the other man was there, just there, were almost enough to drive him mad with _want_. He gritted his teeth and willed himself to ignore it and was glad when Mike's breathing told him that the other man had slipped into a fitful sleep. He had promised Mike he would hold him through the night, not let go, and so he didn't, in spite of knowing full well that sleep would remain a stranger to him this night. He just had to make it through until morning. And if, in the pitch dark of midnight, he buried his nose in Mike's sleepy neck and inhaled the scent that was uniquely his, and if, as night gave way to first light, he got a little too much pleasure out of the soft and intimate closeness of Mike's sleeping form, well - nobody saw it, nobody would ever know.


	15. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey is dismayed to discover Mike and Stephen are practically family now. And Donna has some family issues of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! I'm sorry to say, Mike gets just a little bit naughty with Stephen again in this part, I know, I know! There are like a million reasons why they shouldn't... Mike knows too.. so does Stephen... but.. it was just sooooo hard not to! Really! I tried. Really hard! These characters seem to have a mind of their own sometimes.. so if the thought is unpalatable please consider skipping this chapter!

Stephen woke long before the alarm clock could jolt him into awareness. He surfaced slowly, tired from lack of sleep, but vaguely surprised he had fallen asleep at all. It had been a long night - and yet he felt strangely peaceful. Awareness trickled in gradually, along with the slow dawning of recollection. He unconsciously tightened his hold on the warm hazy body pressed so softly in his arms, floppy with sleep and delightfully _there_. Jesus, Mike was so close. So. Close. He could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each lazy, warm, breath. The smell of him was all over Stephen, assaulting his nostrils, pulling delicious sensations from deep within his belly. Oh God. His cock twitched and began to harden, a slow but unstoppable swell, as desire coursed through his veins. Stephen bit his lip, willing it to go away. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Just. Dear Lord, please make it stop!

Stephen weighed his options. He needed to move - to do anything other than _lie here_ like this, he could barely keep his hands from moving across the luscious plane of Mike's luminous skin. God, his ass was _just there!_ But he couldn't move without potentially waking Mike, alerting him to the horribly erect state of his member. Damned traitorous piece of flesh! It was moving of its own accord. The thing was _throbbing_ at him for Chrissake! Stephen breathed deeply and did his best to hold on to the mantra of _'Control yourself. This is Mike he needs a friend. This is Mike he is in love with Harvey. This is MIKE! Oh God this is Mike! Oh God please let him wake up now so I can move - no I can do this. This is Mike. Control. Push him off. Get out of the bed. Move!'_. But it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside his chest, and even less to quell the heat that was rising in waves from the centre of his soul, unstoppable and delicious and completely _wrong!_

Just then, a sleeping Mike shifted ever so slightly, rolling his hips - and bringing a new rush of excitement with the sensation of something hot and stiff pressing insistently into Stephen's thigh. Oh no! Mike was hard. So hard. Stephen bit back a moan. This was _so_ not fair. Mike was still asleep and was pressed up against Stephen's body, rock hard and probably dreaming of _Harvey!_ Stephen froze, desperately trying to pull back from the brink of disaster. Desperately scrabbling for anything to cling on to, wondering what on earth he should do. He felt a wall of weakness crash over him, pure _want_ assaulting his higher brain. He wanted. So bad. Stephen had almost talked himself out of doing anything he shouldn't, almost talked himself into a cold, cold shower, when fate intervened in the way that only fate could. Still half asleep, Mike began to move. Subtly, slowly, he began to _grind._ From the second Mike's hips began to roll, as he subconsciously began to rub against the older man, Stephen was lost. Utterly lost. He hovered for a brief moment on the precipice, willing himself back from the edge, but the tantalizing pull of the other man's arousal was more than he could bear. He fell. He burned. He fell while burning. There was no air. He was drowning. But he couldn't imagine a better way to die.. 

Mike surfaced from sleep to a wonderfully warm wave of arousal. He could feel strong arms holding him in the most amazing way, making him feel wanted and alive. He could smell the heady scent of the other man's excitement, heavy in the morning glow. The slow flush of his own desire rose from his toes to his hips, surprising him, catching him unaware. Mmmmmh. This was nice... maybe too nice. His hips were already making tiny little movements, barely-there thrusts, but the friction was amazing. Oh, it had been so long since he had shared this with someone, really shared it. Oh God. He should stop. Really. He knew it. But - oh, he couldn't bear to. He needed this, he wanted this, his movements became less random, more decisive, he moaned deep in his throat, he was lost. They were lost. There was no way to avoid the heat, the tremendous heat, building and building between them. They were utterly, utterly lost. And Mike couldn't bring himself to care.

***

Stephen made a mean cup of coffee - strong and rich and aromatic. Mike could _live_ inside one of Stephen's cups of coffee. Of course - it could be down to the obscenely expensive and hideously complicated coffee maker on the counter of the penthouse kitchen. But as Stephen was just Don's guest here, Mike couldn't exactly use that as material for mocking the other man's taste in expensive kitchen equipment, now could he? Instead he smiled at his friend, gratitude for more than the coffee filling his eyes.

Regardless of the pleasure to be wrung from a killer cup of coffee, Mike was aware that he probably had some apologising to do. He knew he had somehow crossed a line. He just couldn't quite bring himself to regret it. His body was still singing in pleasure. His heart felt like it was able to beat again for the first time in weeks. The despair of last night seemed a thousand miles away in the bright light of day. He knew he should feel very ashamed of himself, he had turned up on the doorstep a heaving mess, babbling about kissing Harvey and how he was never going to be able to go back into the office again. He had felt rejected and worthless and yet again he had turned to Stephen and yet again Stephen had taken him in, gathered the broken pieces of his soul and put them back together overnight. He felt lighter, calmer. He felt like a person again, like he had something left to give - even if he did feel something of a fool for having reacted so badly to the aborted kiss of the night before. But the thing was, he knew Stephen didn't think worse of him for what had probably been a panic attack last night. Or for being so upset. Or for turning to Stephen even though he had so little to offer the man in return. The man just 'got' Mike in a way that few others seldom did and had the generosity of spirit to give without asking for anything back. Mike didn't want to ever hurt Stephen - he really _liked_ Stephen - but he was terribly afraid that he just had. He knew Stephen's heart was open for the taking. He also knew that his own was not. But in spite of that, he couldn't bring himself to wish they hadn't.. gotten closer in the half light of dawn. It had been a while since Mike had indulged in the particular pleasure of another man's touch. The last guy he had been intimate with (well, apart from Stephen that one night, but he had been SO drunk and SO hungover the next day that he wasn't sure that even counted) had been Trevor, and even that had been motivated by habit more than pleasure towards the end. 

Mike eyed his friend across the kitchen island. Stephen met his gaze calmly. Try as he might, Mike couldn't detect the hurt he feared might be lurking there. Perhaps they could weather this with minimal collateral damage. Mike vowed to do his best to try -and determined then and there never to put themselves in this position again. No matter what crap Harvey rained down on his ass, he would _not_ drag Stephen into that mess again. The man was too precious to him. Too important to risk for his own need and despair. Not for the first time, Mike wished and wished again that Harvey GodDamn Specter had not managed to grab such a solid hold of his heart. 

***

"Hi honey," Stephen's voice filled the space between himself and Mike, sweet as molasses on the morning air. His whole face communicated his delight in talking to the person on the other end of the phone. "All well here, how's my little man?... Oh, that's a shame I was hoping to talk to him - tell him I'll face-time him later when he gets back.... Yeah." And then his expression changed - Mike couldn't be sure - but - was that a hint of embarrassment in Stephen's smile?

"No..," he said softly. "I'm having breakfast - yes, with Mike. Uhm.. well, yes, he stayed last night. Mmmmh." Stephen's eyes flashed apologetically at Mike, before widening in shock. "Charlotte!!" he exclaimed, obviously scandalized. "Stop it!" but he said that with such a warm smile that Mike just knew whatever his wife (ex-wife?) was saying, it probably fell into the category of 'gentle teasing' if anything. Mike could read the fondness Stephen had for his wife in the exchange, in the way Stephen relaxed when talking to her. It spoke of years of morning exchanges and long-standing familiarity and love. And he could tell from the parts of the conversation he was privy to that his friend had already told Charlotte about him. The thought warmed his heart - he was important enough to have spoken of him to his (ex-) wife. Although he had long since stopped doubting that Stephen was cheating or lying to a 'little wifey' back home, it was still a relief to have it confirmed. Mike could tell the conversation was winding up now. "Yes, well I haven't asked him yet, but yes, I'd like that. You still ok with it? Great, I haven't seen the little guy in weeks, I miss him too, yeah. Ok. I'll see what I can set up and ring you tonight when Dylan is home... Yeah. Ok. Sounds good. Talk to you tonight" and then the call was over and Mike raised his eyes to find Stephen looking at him speculatively. 

"Spit it out," he said. 

"Oh, I was just wondering - it's totally fine if it's not your thing - but - would you like to spend the day with me and Dylan when he comes to New York on Saturday? I haven't seen him in weeks because of work, but Charlotte and her new boyfriend have tickets for the Met and it means I get to keep Dylan overnight and we hang out all weekend. I'd like him to meet you. But you don't have to! I get it isn't everyone's idea of a dream weekend!"

Mike's heart almost exploded in ways that were simultaneous both good and bad, delightful and too hard to even bear. Here was a good, kind, man who had just opened up his bed, probably his heart as well, to someone who was already hung up on somebody else. And to top it all off, he was apparently willing to grant the biggest trust of all - the chance for Mike to spend time with the most important person in Stephen's world. Mike grew up an orphan and an only child, picked on and isolated at school until Trevor had taken him under his wing. He had always wanted a family. Had always wanted to belong to something bigger, something almost tribal. Given his disastrous love life, he never thought he would get to take a kid to the park or for ice cream, or the thousand other things you did to keep kids occupied in the city that never sleeps. Grinning like a fool, he simply nodded and said "Yes please!" 

 ***

Later that morning, sitting in Harvey's office, he took advantage of a gap in proceedings to google 'kids activities in New York' on his laptop. He didn't see Harvey hover over his shoulder but he definitely heard the huffing sound the other man made on reading his search bar. "I know you're a teenager at heart Mike, but kids activities? You don't have any nieces or nephews. Whose child were you planning to borrow for this? Hmm?" Mike rolled his eyes, thinking that he probably shouldn't have done this in Harvey's office if he wanted any privacy for it. "If you must know, Stephen's son, Dylan, is in town this weekend and I'm looking up some fun stuff we can do with him. He's nearly ten but he's advanced for his age, so I was thinking maybe a museum but then something fun like, I don't know, bowling if it's rainy or park for some softball if it's fine. Oh, I must look up weather for the weekend too!" He shot a glance at Harvey, amazed the man was taking this so quietly, only to be confronted with such a look of absolute horror that it stopped him in his tracks. _Oh crap,_ he thought, _I forgot, he didn't know about Dylan. This is going to set him off big time. Fuck!_ But to Mike's everlasting surprise, Harvey simply turned away and spent the next 10 minutes scowling out of his office window at the ants moving on the pavement far below. Mike finished what he had been doing and quietly left. No point in tempting fate, after all. 

Harvey let out a single ragged breath when Mike had finally left the office. Holding his hurt at bay had been torture while the younger man was there with him. Now that Mike was gone, Harvey could give in to the feelings that were ripping through him like jagged shards of glass. _Oh God, this couldn't be happening. Mike on an outing? With Stephen's **son**? How could this be happening? It literally couldn't get any worse._ Harvey badly needed a drink but as it was only 10.14AM he figured he was just going to have to tough it out. This sucked. Big time. 

***

Harvey's phone beeped insistently, signalling a new text. For a brief moment he allowed hope to flare before realising the text was not from Mike. _Can I call over this evening?_ Harvey read the message, registering that it came from Donna's phone. He looked up from his desk in surprise - she was right there on the other side of the intercom, but not making eye contact. Sending a text seemed a bit overkill. Nevertheless, he quickly typed a reply and hit send: _Yes. I'll be home from nine. H._

He eyed his assistant nervously. He'd never admit it to anyone but even Harvey was slightly afraid of the firey Donna. He guessed it must be about their 'project', he couldn't think of anything else offhand that would warrant a trip to his condo - he knew she hadn't conceived last time, but it wasn't time for the next round yet, either. He dearly hoped he hadn't done anything wrong. He really hadn't room in his heart for anything more than the burden it was currently carrying. But then, who even knew he had a heart? Who knew that this under-used part of him could be so easily filled with pain and all because of an adorable associate who was tantalizingly out of reach? Harvey tightened his grip on the file in his hands and resolutely forced his attention back to the completely irrelevant merger that had seemed so very important just a few short hours ago. 

***

In the end, Donna turned up at Harvey's penthouse a little before 10 that night. She looked a little frazzled. Harvey didn't look so hot himself. 

"Harvey," Donna said, turning a very serious frown towards the man who was her friend, boss, and occasionally her kinda-lover, before uttering the words every man especially dreads to hear: "We really have to talk."

"Sure, come on in. Drink?" At Donna's slight shake of the head he shrugged and resisted the urge to refill his own tumbler with scotch. He probably needed a sober head to process whatever it was Donna had to say to him tonight. He motioned her towards the couch and took a seat beside her. "What's up, Donna?" he asked, simply.

Donna let out a long, slow sigh. "Harvey," she said, "I know we have this arrangement, we've covered every conceivable angle, the paperwork is watertight, the contract is sound, we're both adults and I still want to have a child with you." At this, she paused, looking at Harvey with a slight frown creasing her brow. "But..?" Harvey asked. He would have to be blind not to see the exceptionally big 'but' that was hovering just beyond Donna's words. "What is it, Donna?" he asked, softly this time, recognising this was hard for her.

"Harvey - do you remember what I told you about why I would prefer to conceive naturally?" Harvey remembered - vaguely. "Something about it feeling right?" he ventured. "Almost... You know I'm into alternative stuff, even if I don't talk about it often. God knows, you give me a hard time about being a closet hippy and all. Thing is, I really believe in staying authentic to the energy of the moment. It's part of what makes me .. Donna! And... I know I say a lot about enjoying the sex with you and all, and how it was almost natural we would go there - especially as we'd already slept together even if it was a long time ago. But while that's totally true, I mean - you're definitely no slouch in the sack - but that's not the whole reason. I can get sex any time I want, you know, even great sex. I'm not so desperate for sex, even for sex with you, Harvey Specter, that this is all some kind of excuse to encourage you to sleep with me." Harvey wasn't sure where this was going but he muttered a soft "I know, Donna, I know," anyway. 

Donna shifted a little in her seat and continued. "I don't know, I just - I just wanted my child to be conceived of a moment of connection, even if it wasn't love - the kind of connection that happens between two people, friends, who know and like - and _trust_ \- each other and are sharing something intimate and filled with hope. I wouldn't get that from a random stranger in a bar or a kit on the internet - or from a white-coated stranger with a set of stirrups and a schedule to keep either, for that matter. I just didn't want something sordid, or something cold and clinical. Maybe I was just being greedy. Maybe I don't get to have it both ways." 

Donna paused here and Harvey nodded to let her know she'd heard him, waiting for her to go on. "I guess I just wanted it to be as close to the dream as I could make it." Harvey took her hand in both of his and rubbed one thumb gently over the back of her hand, soothing and reassuring. "But Harvey," and here came the 'but', he thought. "That was when I was sure you were single. When what we were doing wasn't affecting your life. You were a free agent." Harvey looked at her, a question in his glance. "I'm still single," he said, as if that should be obvious. "But Harvey, your heart isn't free any more, is it? I'm not a fool. The last few times.. you really weren't into it were you?"

Harvey could do many things and had been responsible for many half truths, deflections and obfuscations in his time. But he couldn't outright lie to Donna. He hung his head and bit his lip instead. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "Harvey - if your heart isn't in it, then it doesn't work for me either, you know. That's not what I signed up for either. I want you to want it too and if you can't want it then we find another way. I mean it. The how is just as important to me as the end result. Maybe I should have explained that sooner..." Donna looked sad, a little disappointed, but not, Harvey noted, devastated. He let out a sigh. He had been so sure she would feel betrayed if he backed out, but in all honesty - he wasn't sure he would have been able to keep up his end of the bargain this time round. He was a normal red-blooded man, he wasn't made of stone, and Donna was a very attractive woman. But - and here's the thing, the secret he could barely admit even to his own trembling heart - she wasn't _Mike_.

Harvey felt very alone, and very sober, as he suddenly realised - nobody else came close. Nobody else would ever really do. It was Mike. Always Mike, like an echo deep in Harvey's soul, reverberating in the hollow spaces and filling them with a thousand tinkling vibrations, a thousand tiny joys. Mike made him come alive inside. Filled the empty spaces in his deepest core, over and over again. Harvey was not a man who was given to romantic idling. But he knew then, with absolute certainty, that Mike was not just some silly crush, this wasn't just lust or frustrated desire or jealousy. If anyone could be, then Mike - he was.. he really was - _the one_... 

Harvey knew then and there that he simply had to have this man, whatever it took. Mike would be his and he would be Mike's. His heart leapt in something like hope, something like joy - and something a lot like anticipation. 


	16. My love is bitter-sweet like coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night confessions and bitter-sweet understandings.

Perched in his eerie high above Manhattan, Harvey watched the lights glow faintly in the not-ever-darkness of the city's sky. He was nursing his scotch, not drinking so much as sipping, eyes dark with unwanted thoughts, a slow, seductive jazz song echoing the rhythm of his aching heart. He was thinking about Mike - of course he was, the genius associate was never very far from his thoughts these days. He wondered with a pang how today's 'play date' had gone with Stephen's son. He knew Mike, a kid himself by times, would immerse himself in the experience, would take part in the activities with typical Mike-enthusiasm, his joy flaring in brilliant smiles and lighting sparks of cobalt in his eyes. Mike would, of course, be having fun. The chances of the child not liking the young man were slim to none. Who wouldn't like Mike, after all? He figured if this was a test, to see how Mike fit in with Stephen's family, then Mike would pass with flying colours. And if it was not a test, then surely the day spent being a family together would only serve to show Mike how very much Stephen had to offer. So much more than what Harvey could give, he couldn't lie about that. Harvey was no fool. He knew the elusive pull a child would have on Mike's family-hungry heart. Add to that the open, honest affection that Stephen radiated for Mike and it was almost a fait accompli. Minute by minute he felt Mike slipping slowly away, like a relentlessly ebbing tide, his beautiful warmth washing over Harvey time and again, only to pull further and further away with every swell, until he was left with only the sharp sting of salty brine and abrasive sand, and the memory of softly breaking water on his skin.

Mike had not mentioned the drunken half-kiss, not once, although the next day he had looked at Harvey with a sheepish kind of grimace for the space of a heartbeat or two, before launching into a very detailed description of the loophole he'd found in a contract. Harvey had wanted to bring it up, but his mouth had stubbornly remained closed, the words catching in his throat. He had never been very good at this kind of thing. In the end they had let it slide for so long that it seemed impossibly awkward to go back and discuss it now. Harvey had no idea what, if anything, the dry press of lips in a darkened bar had meant to the other man. Harvey was rarely on the back foot in matters of seduction. But then again - this wasn't just seduction. This was an affair of the heart. He had no map to steer by. Harvey thought how ironic it was, that if Mike were just a temporary conquest then he would already have concocted a game plan, would already be just one step away from bringing his target down. But because Mike was - so much - more, he was completely unprepared, unable to see more than one step ahead, a boat bobbing on that ebbing tide and floundering. This was too important and Harvey was too unused to doubt. For all his experience, as a lawyer, a lover, even a friend, Harvey could not see a way out of this that did not lead straight back to heartbreak and despair. And underlying it all was the constant yet bitter refrain - what have you to offer Mike anyway? Wouldn't he be happier with someone who can give him what he needs? 

***

In a nearby corner of Manhattan, Mike was also standing at a window, staring thoughtfully at the darkening sky. But unlike Harvey, he was feeling something approaching contentment as he reviewed a day well spent. Dylan had been adorable, open and friendly, very like his father, with a streak of mischief a mile wide. The day had been nothing short of perfect. The perfect kind of day that reminded Mike of that song about perfect days. He could actually hear the refrain playing itself behind his eyes. It was such a cliche, but so very true. He longed for more days like today, more evenings feeling satisfied and connected and not-alone. In the glass Mike caught a flash of movement as his friend came out of the bedroom to join him. He watched the other man’s reflection moving across the room, meeting and holding his liquid gaze. “Well, Dylan’s already out for the count” Stephen said with a smile. “I think you wore him out - not easy to do by the way! Actually..” and here, Stephen sank gracefully onto the sofa “you wore me out too, I feel old.”

“Steady on old man. You gave us a good run for our money today” Mike said around a shit-eating grin, as he turned towards his friend. He crossed the space between window and sofa in two easy steps and flopped happily down beside the other man. Today had been fun, but more than that, it had warmed a hollow place that had long felt empty and cold. Mike was well aware how addictive this was for him, the acceptance, the sense of belonging, the feeling of family. It exerted a strong pull, but he knew the taste was vaguely bitter-sweet on his tongue. He could not completely ignore the fact that the day, the family, how they all fit beautifully together, almost seamlessly - it was not really his. The warmth was only loaned out to him, to be sampled briefly and on borrowed time. Perhaps it was the hard and bitter edge of this truth that made the softness of the day by comparison so deliciously sweet.

Stephen noticed that the huge loopy grin Mike had been wearing since morning had begun to fade, giving way to a distant, melancholy look. “What’s up kiddo?” he asked, resisting the urge to touch the younger man, maybe to tug gently on a piece of his hair or brush his fingertips across the back of his hand. Stephen’s fingers had itched all day to reach out to Mike, not with passion, but gently, an affirmation of his growing feelings for this amazing guy. He would give anything to keep that heart-warming smile in place. “Oh, just thinking how nice today was, but kinda reminding myself not to get too used to it.” Mike gave a wry smile. “Come Monday I’m back to being an overworked associate who doesn’t have a life beyond the next case. But it was nice to have a taste of something else today. I’m so happy you invited me, I know it’s a big deal that you were willing to introduce me to Dylan. He’s great by the way.” His voice turned wistful as he continued, “ I wish..” but here he lapsed into silence, he didn’t really know what he wished, or how to put the vague, formless feelings into words. He just knew that this was something he wanted but couldn’t quite have, maybe didn’t even deserve.

Stephen nodded slowly. He knew that Mike struggled with this, wanting the whole package, but not quite able to give his whole self in return, plagued with doubts and not ever feeling he was good-enough to have what he wanted so badly. He knew that Mike’s whole family were gone, which must play havoc with the kid’s sense of belonging. He could imagine that Mike would have learned to see everything as temporary, convinced that people always left or abandoned him. That ultimately, you were alone. Stephen also knew Mike had a bad habit of picking the wrong kind of friends to whom he would proceed to devote his startling brand of loyalty – Trevor was a case in point. What Stephen couldn’t decide was where Harvey fit in all this. Was Harvey just another controlling and self-centred dick who would ultimately use his young friend and break his heart? Was he capable of having Mike’s best interest at heart?

Stephen knew he was getting rather fond of Mike, he recognised the protective instinct surging in his chest whenever he thought about how alarmingly lonely the other man was. He felt vaguely bad at dangling ‘family’ and ‘children’ in front of someone who so patently wanted to belong, but who so obviously never thought he could have this for himself. But the invitation to spend the day with his son had not been intended as a carrot to entice Mike to want Stephen more. He did want Mike to want him, no question about that - he just wouldn’t use his son to ensure it. But he had wanted Mike to meet his son nonetheless, for them to get to know each other. Stephen knew that in spite of being young and a little messed up – small wonder considering his past – that Mike had the biggest heart he had ever seen. The guy had so much potential, all he needed was to find his feet and realise how special he was, to learn he was worthy of love. And he was sure that if ever Mike could really choose him, that they would be so good together, that as a couple, they would work.

But even more than that, Stephen was sure that no matter what happened between them, Mike would remain in his life, even if only as a friend. He wanted in some way to give Mike more than he had, to let him know he was part of something bigger, that there was a place for him here, whatever path he chose romantically. Stephen knew he would be returning to his family home when the new product line was finally launched, but he was determined not to let his friendship with Mike dwindle due to distance or geography. Mike was too important, too special, to abandon now. He watched Mike carefully, waiting for the younger man to look him in the eye. “Mike,” he said softly, “you’re our friend. You can hang with us any time.” He let his eyes do the talking then, not sure what words to use to convey his meaning. But he thought that just maybe Mike understood. And the gratitude in Mike’s answering look was all the thanks that Stephen needed.

***

Later that evening, Mike had pretty much colonised the far side of the couch, sprawled out and disinclined to move. It was nice, relaxed and easy, bodies lax and tired from a day spent running about after a ten year old boy. Mike knew that he needed to talk to Stephen about what he was mentally calling ‘the kiss fiasco’, he just wasn’t sure where to begin. He hadn’t said a word to Harvey about it. Somehow it had seemed impossible in the cold light of day, what with Harvey brooding in his suit of armour and Donna more than likely listening in on the intercom. But with Stephen it was different, they could talk about things. So he tilted his head slightly and looked the other man straight in the eye. “Stephen? Can we talk about the other evening?” Stephen smiled his crooked smile and simply asked “What is it you wanted to say, Mike?”

“That I’m glad you were there. That I’m sorry you saw me in such a mess. I guess I don’t understand how you still want me around after seeing just how.. broken I really am. I hate that you saw that. I hate that I got so upset. But you got me through. And I’m grateful. Even if I do feel like a complete idiot for letting it get to me that way.” Mike paused, seeking some kind of reassurance in Stephen’s face, relaxing slightly when he saw only a calm acceptance radiating there. The other man waited, not wanting to interrupt, knowing that Mike needed to get this out and that he needed to go at his own pace. He knew there was more that Mike had to say. “And…” here Mike lowered his gaze for a second, obviously finding this part difficult to put into words. “And I wanted to apologise for trying to kiss you, for asking you to be intimate with me, given the state I was in and why I was in it. I know it was for all the wrong reasons and you deserve so much better than that. It hasn’t sat right with me all week. It was unfair to you. I wasn’t being the kind of friend you deserve me to be. I’m sorry,” the last words had sunk to just a whisper, Mike swallowing hard and fiddling with his fingers, obviously uneasy.

“Mike,” Stephen answered gently, the name sounding genuinely fond on his lips. “You don’t need to apologise. I get it. I really do.” At that, Stephen gave up on trying so hard not to touch his friend. He allowed himself to take one of Mike’s slender hands into his own, stroking softly. He felt they needed the connection now. “And you’re right,” he continued, “I did find it hard that you only wanted to kiss me for that reason and not for the reason I’d like it to be. But I understood what it was. And I was glad you came to me, glad you had someone to turn to, and glad you trusted me enough to let that person be me, enough to let me see the parts that you call broken. I don’t think you’re broken, though, or that you’re a mess or any of the other things you’ve called yourself tonight. I call it being honest and real and human. I call it having a really big capacity to feel, Mike. Do you know how rare that is? I wish you could see what I see when I look at you, I wish you didn’t doubt how awesome you are. And to be allowed to see you at your most real, most emotional - that’s a privilege, to be able to be that for someone else. It only made me feel closer to you.”

“I was so afraid I had hurt you, Stephen. Made you feel used or second best. You’re amazing, you know. There’s nobody else ever made me feel so cared for. And I care so much for you, you know that. I hate knowing that keeping you close means me risking hurting you. I feel like I’m being selfish, like I should just walk away, not string you along. But – I can’t quite let go of you, either.”

“I will admit to feeling a little jealous that night, maybe. And wishing that you were not in love with someone else the way I can clearly see you are. I was very tempted to take the kiss regardless, not to mention what would have followed after it – I’m only human after all, and if you don’t know the power you hold over me in that arena by now, Mike Ross, you never will! But I knew you were in a bad place and if I’d allowed it, then it wouldn’t have been a case of you using me Mike, it would have been me using you!” Mike’s eyes flew open at this, he hadn’t thought about it that way, how vulnerable he had been in that moment of despair. How his friend had been protecting him from himself and not turning away in pain and disgust, as he had initially feared. Mike suddenly had another thought, an alarming one. Did his friend think the same thing about the passion that had flared between them the morning after?

"Stephen," he said, urgently, but so softly it was almost a sigh. "You do know, don't you, that what happened between us, the next day - it wasn't the same as the night before. I was in a completely different space. Please tell me you knew that! It wasn't about me feeling crap and having sex to make myself feel better. It wasn't like that. Oh God, I hope you get that. I wasn't pretending you were Harvey, or anyone else. In that moment it was you, I wanted you. It was real - and - and beautiful. Stephen - that wasn't about despair or loneliness. Or you taking advantage or me using you or any of that shit. It was desire, it was honest-to-God me wanting _you_. You know that, right?" Stephen's eyes warmed with a hint of relief. He hadn't planned on bringing it up, half afraid of what the answer might be. But Mike's words, spoken with such sincerity, put his demons to rest. "I hadn't wanted to think it was for the wrong reasons, Mike, but I'd be lying if I said the possibility hadn't crossed my mind. I guess even bad-ass old guys like me have their insecurities sometimes!" at that, Stephen chuckled softly before going on. "I'm more pleased than you can know to hear you say that, though. It was real for me, and I _hoped_ it was for you, too. Thank you for telling me. I know there's no way we can do that again - God I'd like to - but it'd be such a bad idea. But you're right, it was beautiful. And knowing it wasn't driven by something ugly and hurtful - that means so much to me." Stephen was telling the truth. He couldn't regret the events of that morning, and he was so glad to know he didn't have to try. It could remain a beautiful memory for him - one that was possibly as painful as it was sublime, but he could live with that. So long as it had been real. 

Stephen flashed a small but genuine smile at his friend before continuing. “This next part is harder for me to talk about, but I guess it has to be said.. You need to know that I haven’t fallen for you Michael, at least not yet, and I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. I have nothing to hide here, you know how I feel. I like you so much. I will freely admit, though, that I’m on the edge of something bigger, something with real potential – and I haven’t felt this way about anyone for a very long time. I know it’s maybe playing with fire, these things, you can’t control them, there’s nothing neat about this. My heart could so easily be yours, for real. And yes I suppose that means I should probably put some distance between us to protect myself – but what would that gain me? Safety? I’d rather risk a little hurt and allow myself to be close to you in whatever way we can. One thing I’ve learned from Charlotte, love is not a zero sum game. And there are all different kinds of love. Besides, even love changes over time. Love it its own reward, you know? And whatever this is, whatever it grows to be, it's not something I will turn my back on out of self-preservation or fear. I'm here for you. I've got your back. And I'm not going _anywhere._ ”

Mike smiled so hard he almost glowed. And if his eyes were suspiciously damp, well, nobody was going to say it. He of all people knew that emotions were not neat and often not so easy to define. He knew that true connection was rare and often fleeting - but always worth the risk. He'd lost everyone he had ever cared for. But still, he came out of it believing in the magic of love. Having lost so much, he knew how loss could hurt, and still wanted to make the leap of faith. He allowed genuine affection to well in his chest, to move into his eyes, as his friend continued to talk. “Cards on the table? Yes I would want more from you, Mike, if I thought you had it to give. I’d jump at the chance But I know you don’t. I can't tell how you'll feel in the future, or how I'll feel for that matter. But for right now, I am not ready to give you up. No matter what happens, I want you in my life. I know you won’t hurt me intentionally. And you’ve been nothing but honest with me." Mike fixed Stephen with his eyes. "We're good, then?" he asked his dark haired friend. "More than," Stephen replied. "So much more than that."

Mike relaxed his head back on the sofa. He knew it was time he started to get his things together and go, he'd ring a taxi soon. He didn't want to tempt fate by staying, and anyway, there was only one bedroom and Dylan was having a sleepover. But he allowed himself to feel happy for the first time in a long, long time. He felt blessed to have such a good friend beside him - and more than a little relieved that they had navigated the treacherous waters of their complicated brand of desire without serious casualties along the way. He knew that he had to be careful with his friend, knew that he would have to put Stephen's best interests first from now on, in the same way this man was always, already, prioritising Mike's. Together, they'd keep each other safe. And if there was a bitter sweetness behind the joy, well, Mike had long known that no pleasure comes without a sprinkling of pain. He wasn't going to dwell on what could not be. He resolved to be the best friend he could to this man who had appeared so suddenly in his life. Love wore many hats. They'd find one to fit - together. 


	17. New Beginnings

Much as Harvey was glad he and Donna's arrangement had taken a detour via medical instead of personal endeavours, he didn't find the clinical setting particularly conducive to playing his new - albeit minimal - role. But Harvey Specter could handle anything, so he manned up and did it anyway. Having held up his part in proceedings, he had offered to accompany Donna to her own appointments, thinking she might appreciate the support, but was secretly glad she declined. He really wasn't that fond of doctors, and going along with her would just have been - awkward. Of course, they could have gone down the internet-kit route and kept things more private, but since money was no object, a good clinic promised far better success rates and was able to leverage technology to improve the odds substantially (even if going through something that was usually so intimate while surrounded by men in white-coats was definitely a bit weird).  

So really, he shouldn't have been surprised when this time, fourteen days after Donna's visit to the clinic during a lunch break, he received a text from his assistant with a big thumbs up emoticon and a 'It worked! Taking a personal day!' message. Harvey was happy for Donna - he really was. Which was why the unexpected gut reaction that came out of nowhere managed to take him by surprise. The sudden wrench literally came out of left field. He had made a child. This was huge. The shock of it almost blew him away. It took him a while for him to put a name on this strange sensation, to figure out (since he was by no means fluent in the language of the emotions) that this feeling was something akin to regret. Not that he regretted helping his oldest friend. No, it was regret that this wasn't really his victory to celebrate. This was not (not really) his family. He was on the sidelines here - he had given Donna a gift but the gift remained hers. With trepidation and no small feeling of shock, Harvey realised that family - something he had never considered as even vaguely desirable given his situation, character and inclinations - was something he secretly wanted after all. Only not with Donna. Or Scottie, or even with Zoe, who had been the most likely of candidates to play momma to his papa bear. No, if he was to think about a future that included children - it was not Donna, or one of his exes, or even some faceless woman who stood beside him watching football games and taking turns pacing the floor on sleepless nights. No, if he indulged in any kind of fantasy about that extremely remote possibility, the person he was sharing it with was.. Mike.

_Ridiculous_ , he thought. _Utterly ridiculous. You could never be a father, you're too selfish. You don't even want kids - they mess everything up, they spit and puke and poo and cry incessantly. Who'd want that? You never wanted that. They're nothing but trouble. And with Mike? Seriously?_

So why? Why did the thought haunt him over the days and weeks that followed, the utterly insane image of Mike and Harvey complete with pushchair and baby carrier and a cute little blonde haired kid? 

***

 Some weeks later - after morning sickness had begun to render Donna pale and testy before lunchtime, but several weeks before she started to show - Harvey found his assistant waiting for him in the office with a patented Donna 'don't mess with me' look on her face. "What have I done now, Donna?" he asked, resigned to whatever chewing out was undoubtedly coming his way. "Mike," she said. "What about him? He's working on the McKenna briefs, he's probably in the file room as we speak." Donna favoured him with another of her infamous 'looks', this one definitely meaning business. "When are you planning to tell him? In a couple more weeks I will be finished first trimester and can officially break the news in the office, and another month from now, I will by necessity be knee-deep in unflattering maternity wear. If the office gossip doesn't tip him off, the very obvious bump I'll soon be sporting most definitely will. You really want him to find out courtesy of the office grapevine?" Harvey sighed. The opportunity to admit his reasons for having been found in a compromising position with Donna had long passed. Things had settled down between him and his associate, to something approaching normality. He really didn't want to fracture the tentative peace with a new revelation. But - Donna was right, as usual. Letting Mike hear second-hand was cruel. He would have to talk to his rookie. And soon.

***

Knowing that he needed to get a move on and break the news, Harvey spent the next few days trying to find time to talk - properly and without interruption - to Mike. It made him realise how little 'personal alone time' they had together now. He watched Mike surreptitiously at first, just trying to re-connect in some bizarre second-hand way with the man who now seemed so distant, so remote. The man he loved. That was the first time he consciously noticed how Mike was changing. The first sign was that Mike had filled out a little, a change that wasn't at all unwelcome. Carrying a little more weight suited the younger man, made him look happier, rounder, contented. He also somehow seemed to have grown in confidence in the intervening time, something that had been coming on so slowly that Harvey wasn't sure when exactly it had begun. The man seemed more grounded, together in a way he had not been before, there was less of the anxious puppy about him. He didn't second-guess his own judgement so much, didn't have to try quite so hard. And he seemed so happy - whistling in the corridors, smiling his thousand-watt smile for no discernible reason. Mike had always been cheerful with people but now he seemed to genuinely _glow_. Nothing seemed to phase him, not Harvey's bad moods or lack of praise for a job well done, not the hazing and unpleasantness from the other associates. It took an already desirable young man and turned him into something- polished. Something utterly hot. 

Harvey swallowed. Under another man's hand, Mike had - he had blossomed. In ways that he might never have with  _him._ The realisation made Harvey's blood run cold with guilt and self-recrimination, made him ask the hard, hard question: _Why had he not had this effect on Mike himself? Had he kept the kid dependent and adoring, just because it felt good to have an acolyte? Had it really taken another man - a better man - to pull Mike from Harvey's sphere of influence and in doing so, make him into something new, something better?_ Harvey could see, clear as day, that Mike had turned a new page, one that had not been written exclusively by Harvey Specter. He was coming into his own. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. _Was it too late? Please God or Universal Deity, say it was not too late._ He needed to talk to Mike.

 


	18. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike finally learns of Donna's impending arrival

Harvey fully intended to tell Mike about Donna's pregnancy - and soon. Fate, however, seemed determined to intervene. Things moved along of their own accord during the - not inconsiderable - time that Harvey took building up the courage to tackle a subject he found difficult to broach (and somehow, strangely, embarrassing too). While the older lawyer was preoccupied with planning the best strategy to adopt with this entirely fascinating new creature that was 'Mike 2.0' (in other words, prevaricating), the young associate had made some rather worrying observations of his own. Mike's concern grew based on first hand observation of the frequent and atypically fast power-walks Donna kept taking to the women's rest room, pale and tinged a sickly green. This was definitely not a flattering look on the glamorous assistant, who usually favoured gliding over running and before now had seemed to just appear, fully formed, at your elbow. To see her in comparative disarray, looking grim and positively dashing past, in her - what? flat? - shoes-that-were-not-by-a-famous-designer, well, it just felt like something was seriously wrong in the world.

Mike was still very much in awe of the woman, so he didn't dare ask outright if she was ok. Instead he tried hanging out by her desk more often and bringing her coffee (which, he noted, she refused to drink any more unless it was decaf) but nothing came of it other than earning himself a patented Donna glare and a lecture on using up the oxygen in her vicinity for no apparent reason except to distract her from her work. So he did the sensible thing, retreated and went to speak to Rachel instead. The two women were close, Rachel would know what to do. Women always did. They were supposed to be good at this kind of thing. 

"What do you want, Mike?" Rachel asked, with less animosity than you'd think given the history between them. Mike was relieved and heartened by her easy tone, he really hadn't liked living in a world where Rachel was angry with him.  "It's Donna," he said. "Have you noticed how strangely she's acting lately?" Rachel didn't say anything for a minute, watching Mike closely as if assessing him, or wondering how much it would be alright to say aloud. "You mean the rest room breaks at breakneck speed a couple of times a day?" She asked. "Yes, and - well, she's just  _off_ with me these days - more than usual, more than is necessary or even deserved," Mike replied. Rachel made a come-here motion with her hand. When Mike complied, she glared at him, then turned her head and stared pointedly at the open door behind him until he got the message and closed it before moving back to her desk. "What I'm about to say, if you tell anyone they'll never find your body!" Mike nodded enthusiastically. He was more than a little intimidated by Rachel. Not Donna-level terrified, but... enough that he wouldn't risk upsetting her by disobeying a direct order. "I don't know for sure, but I have a suspicion." Mike waited, unsure if he was meant to say anything but not having the slightest idea where this was going. "I think... Mike, I think Donna is expecting." Mike stared at her blankly. "A baby, Mike. I think she's going to have a baby!" 

Mike's jaw dropped, he was sure he had actually forgotten to breathe, and Rachel had the satisfaction of knowing that she had genuinely bowled him over with the news. Mike had read about people experiencing altered states of reality during moments of extreme stress but he had never personally experienced it. Objectively he knew that the surreal, floating - but not in a happy way - feeling and the vague ringing in his ears was probably down to shock. He hoped at least that he kept his 'game face' on enough that Rachel didn't suspect just how deeply this revelation had hit. But for several minutes he wasn't at all sure what the pretty paralegal had been saying. He came-to slightly in time to register her talking about how "Of course, nobody knew Donna was even seeing anyone, Oh my God, maybe it was a one night stand. Oh I hope she's ok, and who will be Harvey's assistant while she's on maternity leave, he's going to make their lives hell, _his_ life will be hell. Shit, he may as well take a sabbatical for the duration!" and on and on it went, rolling over Mike in a wave of words leaving him breathless and dismayed. "Say something, Mike, what is it?" she finally said, when she realised she'd been having what pretty much amounted to a monologue for the past five minutes straight. "I'm just shocked, is all" Mike managed to mumble. "I mean, Donna, she's - she's just so  _Donna!_ How could she be pregnant?" Rachel gave a wry smirk and said something about not thinking she'd have to give Mike the talk about the birds and the bees, to which he countered with a half-hearted eye-roll and a "Hahaha!"

"Do you think we should say something to her?" he asked. "No, better wait - we might be wrong, it's only a hunch." (A good one, though, she privately thought). Mike nodded at that. "Thanks for the heads-up," he said. "I'm glad it's not some life-threatening illness or whatever." He faked a little smile as he said goodbye - really, Harvey must be rubbing off on him, it was getting easier to hide his feelings than it had ever been before. But the news had shaken him nonetheless.

Mike went to the file room to sit in peace and try to sort out his feelings. His fingers itched to ring Stephen, to go find his friend and talk it through. He tamped down on the reflex, actually feeling a little proud that he had come so far in the months since that first time he turned up sobbing at Stephen's door. Where in the beginning, he would have run for the shelter, the comfort, that Stephen instinctively, almost effortlessly, gave, now he was able to breathe through it on his own until the sharp pain of it began to recede. Not only had he held it together in front of Rachel (for the most part), but he also managed not to completely stagger under his feelings, even in the relative privacy of the file room. Hurt, yes. Disappointed, certainly. He realised he also felt jealous and angry and somehow as if he had finally been abandoned, as if Harvey had done this to Mike, on purpose, as if it was personal. And he was shocked as all hell. It felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his world one more time. But this time, he was able to cope with it alone. He would tell Stephen later, and of course he craved the man's support, the calm and affectionate voice - but he could do without it for now. The feelings, while both sudden and tinged with despair, did not overwhelm him. Somehow, he put his emotions to one side and struggled on with his day. 

 


	19. Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike trips over himself until Donna takes pity on the puppy!

Mike tried to push his awareness of Donna's condition out of his conscious thoughts, at least while in the office. He tried - he really did - to keep his face blank and his mind from wandering to the elephant in the room. But it was hard not to go there, when every waking thought seemed to dwell on it. His gaze seemed unable rest anywhere but the forbidden zone, his attention almost obliged to zero in on Donna's - slightly rounded? - belly. Whenever Donna was in his sights, the compulsion to stare was overwhelming. His eyes would flick of their own accord down to the barely-there swell beneath Donna's dress, grazing over her - is it his imagination or are they plumper than before? - breasts, before dragging his baby blues back up to the assistant's face. He could hardly bear to be around Donna any more, he felt as if his guilt was written all over his face. Passing her in the corridor, Mike would groan internally, finding his gaze magnetically drawn to those twin mounds yet again, desperately trying to ignore, ignore, ignore. At this rate, he thought, the woman would think he was hitting on her. He'd end up with a sexual harassment suit or a short sharp slap on the head - or knowing Donna, both. And then some. He really had to pull it together!

Mike couldn't understand how the barely-there presence, once he became aware of it, was having such a strong effect on him. It was like some strange sort of obsession, he just couldn't stop thinking about the baby growing slowly as each day went by. He even did some research, a lot of research, on every facet of pregnancy and birth. Soon he could tell you what vague fruit-or-nut analogy was appropriate for a baby's size which week - from grape to walnut to orange, and was pretty sure he would make a fairly competent midwife, before he was done. The thing was, Mike had always loved babies, always. But more than that, this was _Harvey's_ baby. He was sure of it. The thought was electrifying, like having witnessed a breathtakingly magical alchemy. To Mike it was like discovering a tiny fairy had taken up residence in your birdhouse - you couldn't tell anyone, but you just _knew_ it was real. Mike was in awe of this tiny being, mostly because it was, by extension, part of Harvey. Harvey had created _life_ and if that wasn't the most special kind of magic, he didn't know what else ever would be.

So yes, his first reaction was wonder with a hint of _awesome_ on the side. But his second reaction was not far behind the first. And this one was so ugly Mike was ashamed to even think it. He knew from the steel coiled in his belly and the fire in his chest that yes, he was jealous. No longer jealous of Donna, of her ability to attract Harvey with her soft curves and seductive smiles; jealous of the bond that this child would have with its father. _Taking my place_ the traitorous voice whispered,  _pushing me out_. And even worse - this child symbolised for Mike a Harvey lost forever to partnership and fatherhood. It was the final, irrefutable proof that tipped the balance of the scales. No matter how Mike may have been deluding himself that somehow Harvey _might_ be harbouring feelings for him, Harvey having a child with Donna, becoming a _family,_  put those fantasies squarely in the 'not going to happen' pile. There was no way back from this. This birth tolled the death-knoll on his long-held dreams of a 'Mike and Harvey'. The older man was now firmly out of reach - even if he had never really been in reach at all. It was the death of possibility, of something like hope. Mike's heart broke just a little more every time his eyes made that traitorous journey from face to belly and back. 

It was some nights later before Mike felt a final piece of the puzzle slip home. As he lay in his bed, having spectacularly failed to stop his brain from turning the news over and over again, he recognised yet another loss hovering beneath the constant ache he now carried in his heart. Behind it all, he really was jealous - but not just of Donna as Harvey's partner, and not only of the baby as Harvey's child. He was also angry and resentful and -yes- bitter that he, Mike Ross, would never have a child. He knew deep in his bones that he was horribly jealous of Donna for her ability to bear Harvey's offspring, aware he would never feel the soft swell of promise and expectation, the awareness of a sweet and secret joy lightening his steps and fluttering breathlessly beneath his skin. He had never wanted to be a woman, still didn't, but oh, how he envied Donna this. That she could have what he was denied, was everything he would never be. He loved and blessed and hated the burgeoning bump in equal measure - disgusted with himself for it, all the while. 

***

Meanwhile, comfortably sprawled in her own bed, Donna replayed the last few weeks in her mind's eye. She sighed as she admitted to herself that in spite of Harvey not having yet told Mike the news, the kid must have come to some conclusions on his own. He had been so furtive and squirrelly lately, could barely look her in the eye, and he hadn't smiled in longer than she cared to say. Either he had guessed already or all that staring was for an entirely different reason and those low cut tops would have to go - well, she'd already gone up a couple of cup sizes, but she sincerely doubted her now ample cleavage was the draw. She really hadn't wanted to keep this from him. And now, here he was, wandering the halls of Pearson, Spectre and Litt like a lost soul hiding behind the occasional ficus plant to let her pass. As if she wouldn't notice! Well, be that as it may, she wasn't going to say anything. She'd promised Harvey it would be his secret to disclose. But that wouldn't stop her hinting at him to hurry the heck up already. Donna's hints were legend. Harvey would damn well do as he was told, no more delay tactics, it wasn't fair to Mike. Or to Donna. There was only so long she was willing to have her baby be the source of pain to someone she was inordinately fond of. And there was only so much furtive hide and seek amongst the office greenery she could stand!

*** 

"Hey Donna," Mike blurted out, his head turned at an uncomfortable angle from his body as he tried not to look at her bump. Seriously. Did he think she was blind as well as pregnant? "Can you give these to Harvey when he gets back, please?" She eyed him, waiting for him to make eye contact, which he eventually did, a little sheepishly and at an angle, not full on. "I might," she said, giving up her vow to wait for Harvey to fill Mike in - enough was enough - "if you tell me what's going on, Rookie!" Mike squirmed like a worm on the hook of her gaze, fiddling distractedly with his watch, his tie, the edge of his shirt. "Nothing, Donna. Really, don't know what you mean. Never mind I'll drop them back up later, thanks anyway." And with that, he bolted. Seriously - bolted. Donna shook her head. This was bad. This called for an intervention. 

Donna waited until most of the associates had left for the evening. Mike was usually the last to leave - when he left at all. She rarely stayed this late, but if she had any chance of catching Mike alone, it would be now, in the quiet time. Mike, predictably, was sitting in the associate coffee dock, mainlining hot black coffee as he worked. Donna had no trouble slipping quietly up behind him and sliding into the seat. Her ninja skills were legendary after all. He was now caught between her and the wall, and unless he was so far gone that he'd actually slide to the floor and crawl under the table to avoid talking to her, he was what was known as a captive audience. Perfect. 

Mike's full-on look of horror and dismay was almost comical, if the subject matter was not so serious. If it didn't entail her own heart's desire having crushed this kid's all-too hopeful dreams.  "Mike," she started, shushing him vaguely when he began to object about deadlines and file room and missing highlighter pens. Her eyes dropped to her belly as she said, softly, "I know you know." And just like that, the bubble popped. Mike could no longer pretend to be in the dark. He opened his mouth a couple of times, then closed it again. His heart hurt. There were no words. He still couldn't meet Donna's eye. 

Some time later - it could have been minutes or hours, Mike lifted his head said the words he knew needed to be said. He sincerely wished Donna joy - he said it with as much honest emotion as he could muster, because of course he meant it, no matter how sore he felt right now. It tore at Donna somewhere inside, the sad way he managed to blurt out his congratulations. "You and Harvey are very lucky," Mike breathed. "I'm happy for you - you and Harvey both. It's like you're meant for each other. And this kid will have the best parents in the world. I mean that." He paused, then huffed slightly, almost a chuckle. "Even if the poor thing will end up in pin stripe before it can walk!" Donna grinned at the image, thinking, _not if I have anything to do with it!_  But she took her time in answering, knowing that they were walking a difficult path and wanting to be sure she got the right message across to the big-hearted kid beside her. 

"Mike, honey, please listen to me. No - don't interrupt, please sweetie. Just listen first." Mike closed his mouth again, sat fiddling with the highlighters, waiting. "I know you think you know what happened between me and Harvey. But you don't. Not really." She held up her hand to stop Mike's predictable attempt to interrupt. "Thing is, Mike, as you no doubt have already guessed, Harvey is the father of my child, but not in the way you might think." Donna paused and glanced up at Mike, who was watching her with enormous eyes, twin pools of confusion, like he couldn't quite figure out what her words had meant. So she kept talking. "It's just - well, I always wanted to have a family, always thought it would just 'happen' for me one day, you know?" Mike really did know. He felt exactly the same. The sadness in his eyes told Donna he got it, maybe more than anyone else she knew. "But, here's the problem, I woke up one day and realised I hadn't had a special-someone in my life in quite a while and it dawned on me that I didn't exactly have the luxury of time on my side any more. So six months ago, I went to Harvey and asked for his help. And he gave it, no strings attached. And here I am, here we are. But that's 'we' as in, me-and-my-baby. Not 'we' as in Harvey-makes-three."

She could see that Mike hadn't really got it. The penny hadn't quite dropped. So she continued: "what I mean is that Harvey and I are not a couple, Mike. We're not raising this child together. We were never a couple. And the night you walked in on us - that wasn't us consummating a passionate love affair. It was us attempting to make a baby in spite of not being in love with each other or in any way intending to be together except as friends. Best friends. Mike, I am not dating Harvey." Donna paused for breath, eyes riveted on Mike's awfully pale face. She could see him blink a couple of times as he tried desperately to process what she had just said. She wondered had he gone into shock. She tried to remember what you did for shock. Sweet tea? Blanket? She contented herself with sliding warm, gentle fingers over the back of his now-stilled hand as it rested on the table.

Mike shifted sideways and looked at her, really looked, searching for truth in her face, her eyes. She let him look, probing, questioning silently, and let her happiness show in her face, her smile. Mike's eyes showed the exact moment he accepted what he had heard as fact, tears welling against his will as he took in the news. "You mean - I - But - Harvey? He's not?" Mike managed to splutter out, rather incoherently. And when Donna smiled patiently and nodded her head in confirmation, he got so overwhelmed by the rush of emotions he couldn't even name, that he had no option but to lower his head onto the table and silently weep. Donna, knowing he would need a minute to compose himself, simply draped one arm around his shoulders, continued to rub the back of his hand and waited while he sobbed his relief into the welcoming silence of the night. 

 

 


	20. Pride and Prejudice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey puts Mike first for once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how long I left it to update this - many apologies! The kudos and comments I found in my inbox in the interim have really encouraged me even if I was slow to return. Won't be leaving it so long for the next installment!

"So," Harvey drawled casually, resolutely not-looking at the associate who was sitting on the office sofa and equally not-looking at him in return. "You going to the company's family day out this weekend? I hear they are going to roast a whole pig on the BBQ."

Whatever Harvey was reading on the screen of his work laptop must have been riveting, he could hardly tear his attention away. Mike's fingernails seemed to take on an equally fascinating appearance, as the associate studied them carefully. Mike didn't even lift his head to hastily reply that "Yes, I'm going. Jessica kindof mentioned to the associates that it was a 'good opportunity to show the partners you that you deserve your place in the Pearson Specter Litt family', or something like that. Attendance didn't seem optional, really, reading between the lines."  

Harvey hummed a vaguely pleased reply, at least until Mike added "I asked Stephen and his son to come. It's about family, isn't it? I don't have one of my own anymore. Would have felt weird being there completely alone when everyone else would have  _someone_ to bring." Harvey's hum died in his throat. He glared balefully at his employee, a fact not lost on Mike, even though he still hadn't lifted his head from his contemplation of the floor, his feet, his hands. "You don't think that'll be a problem, do you? I mean - him being a client and.. well.. a  _man_ and all? I know the other associates will probably have a field day, but - well, I really don't care any more. I'm done hiding. He and Dylan are the closest I have to family, so they're coming, and that's that!" he glared back at Harvey, as if his boss had already tried to argue him out of the idea, even though the older man had not said a single word. 

 _Defensive much?_ thought Harvey? And he tried to wrack his brains for a suitable reply, one that would reassure the kid that it was ok to out himself to the entire firm in one go, yet also manage to hide the surge of jealous bitterness he was trying vainly to quash beneath layers of fine wool and iron-clad resolve. Not to mention the wave of sadness that washed over him at the thought of Mike not having anyone else to bring. Jesus, the kid was trying to kill him. Literally, his heart clenched in his chest at the thought. He wanted to say something, to say, _let me be your family. Let me be your whole world, Mike, because when I think about losing you I stop being able to breathe_. But the words wouldn't come out of his stupid mouth. So he sat there glaring as if his associate was somehow offending him, when all the while he just wanted to wrap him in the biggest hug and never let him go. Mike read the glare, not the secret (so secret even Harvey had trouble understanding it) urge to comfort and protect. He stood, picked up his papers, and silently left. Leaving Harvey kicking himself for his silence, here he was, the best closer in the city, and he couldn't say a single word to the one person he really wanted to talk to. Life sucked sometimes. 

***

The next time he spoke to Mike was several hours later, in the bullpen. The younger man was doing his usual highlighter-marathon with a stack of dusty files. Thankfully, the other associates must have scattered to the various copy or file rooms or perhaps even gone home for the evening, given the advancing hour. "Mike," he said. Then, receiving no reply, he reached out to swat one of the kid's ear buds away from his ear, before repeating himself. "Mike?" He watched his associate give a little judder, almost a reined-in jump, before he looked up, one eyebrow quirked impatiently in a universal sign for 'well, what is it?'. "I just wanted to say, bringing Stephen on Sunday, if it makes you happy, it's a good thing. If he's family - well - I mean - I'm glad you have someone you can call family. It's - you deserve a family Mike." Harvey breathed out.  _There. I've finally said something right,_ he thought.  _Something that shows I care._  

Mike looked at Harvey then, it felt like the first time the younger man had really seen him in a long time. "Thanks Harvey." Mike seemed to hesitate, hovering on saying something else. Then he got that 'what the hell' look that Harvey had learned to respect and sometimes fear, before continuing "I know about Donna, Harvey, about the baby and all. She told me. Well - I guessed about the baby, but the rest, she told me. I'm, uhh, well - congratulations?" Typically, Mike had posed his statement as a question, so unsure of himself, of what he was allowed to say when it came to Harvey. He watched the older man's eyes widen in surprise. Donna hadn't filled him in on her conversation with Mike in the associate's canteen the other night, then. Mike vaguely wondered why but shrugged it off as a 'well, it's Donna' kind of thing.

Harvey seemed to be having a problem vocalising his thoughts after Mike's announcement, the man's mouth was working but no sound came out, and his eyes were darting around in a way that would have been called panic if Harvey Specter actually did panic. Since he didn't, it must be something else, thought Mike. But either way, he took a couple of tries before he ground out a "Uhm, thanks.. though it's not really, I mean, it's not like we're together. I mean - it's not like I'll actually be a father, not really. But - yeah. Thanks." He trailed off into a slightly embarrassed silence, while Mike couldn't get past the pink flush that had crept up the lawyer's neck and was painting his usually stoic cheeks with fire. Mike watched as Harvey turned and walked away, thinking to himself how much he wished the man had told him about the baby and not-relationship, instead of leaving it to Donna, or waiting for Mike to ask. 

***

The day of the Pearson, Specter & Litt Family Day Out dawned fair and clear and Mike arrived early with Stephen and his son. The event was held in the grounds of an old estate not far outside the city, and the event planners had set up plenty of activities for the children or younger relations of the privileged lawyers working in the firm. Dylan, after a quick consultation with his father, ran off in the direction of the archery stand, joining a group of other pre-teens watching the games. Meanwhile Mike took Stephen off to introduce him to his colleagues.

He had been a little nervous of bringing another man as his plus-one. Jessica, queen of poise, simply raised one eyebrow but made no comment and shook Stephen's hand graciously. The senior and junior partners, for the most part, took it reasonably well - although Mike was conscious of a fair few raised eyebrows and even one shocked splutter of expensive scotch as realisation dawned. A surprising number of people pulled him aside over the course of the day to offer encouragement and knowing looks. Mike was astonished to find that Louis was one of them, he welcomed Stephen kindly and stayed and talked to them for at least half an hour. One or two of the older partners, of course, looked thoroughly scandalised - there goes his chances of making senior partner, he guessed - not that he figured he had much of a chance at that anyway, Jessica simply wouldn't allow it. However, Mike was hurt when one older couple took one look at Mike and his friend before shepherding their grandchildren away in a hurry - a rudeness which made Mike glower but only caused Stephen to roll his eyes at their stupidity. This wasn't his first time at the fair, he had come out at work himself many years ago. He knew that ignorant people weren't the worst Mike might have to face before they forgot about it and moved on to the next scandalous topic.

Of course the douchebag associates had to make it awkward. Kyle in particular seemed determined to go out of his way to make Mike and his 'date' feel uncomfortable. He sneered  and cat-called as Mike and Stephen walked past to grab some beers from the refreshments table. Mike couldn't hear the exact words but the intent was crystal clear, and it was impossible to ignore the snickers of laughter coming from Kyle's cohorts in reply. Mike glared at them, aware but not really caring that his indignation may be causing him to over-react a little. He took Stephen's hand in his almost as an act of defiance and remained close to his friend all afternoon, sharing little touches to elbow or knee. Stephen most likely knew why Mike was being like this, and he happily played along. Unfortunately, to Harvey, watching from afar, it looked very much like a bona fide 'date'. The idea was doing strange things to his insides, try as he might to deny it. 

But after a while, Mike began to forget about the rest of the firm, he was enjoying hanging out with Stephen and his son too much to let it get to him. His smiles grew more relaxed, more genuine. Stephen's steady good humour and gentle joking began to take effect. Dylan ran over and back from whatever fun he was engaged in, and pulled Mike into several activities that he was really too old to try - he must remember not to overdo the bouncy castle next time! But their antics made all three of them laugh to the edge of tears, until it finally eased something that had been tightly coiled in the pit of Mike's stomach all day.  He huffed a long breath out and smiled. When the BBQ was served, all three sat together at the picnic tables, chatting away, looking for all the world like a regular family hanging out and enjoying the day. They looked happy. They looked like they _belonged_.

Harvey sighed into his drink and watched from the corner of the games tent. Jealous. Again. How many times was he going to go there? He watched Mike who was sitting backwards on the bench while Stephen sat on the table top behind him. After a while, Mike leaned back into Stephen's body, and the older man responded by draping himself around him from behind, welcoming Mike into the reassuring circle of his arms. There was such an easy familiarity about the gesture, it spoke of such warmth and protectiveness. This man was willing to show the whole world how he felt about Mike, was willing to face down the petty bigotry and snide remarks of the sleazy associates and conservative partners alike. He had so much to offer. Mike looked so horribly _content_  that it made Harvey ache inside. He knew then and there that he had to walk away. As much as he wanted Mike as his own, he couldn't ruin this for the kid, not now when he finally had what he needed, what he deserved - a family. Harvey knew that for all his designer suits and elegant penthouse views, compared to Stephen he had nothing to offer Mike. For the first time in a long time, Harvey took stock and realised how empty his life truly was. 

Harvey hovered until Mike left to go queue for more beers, leaving Stephen temporarily alone. He strode over and inserted himself into the space beside the other man, deciding to get to the point quickly, since Mike might be back any minute now. "Listen", he began, "I know you don't know me very well and we may not have gotten off to the best of starts, but.. believe me when I say I have Mike's best interests at heart. And I can see how good you are for him, how happy you make him. He's an amazing guy. So - I guess I just wanted to say - look after him, please! He deserves to be happy, to have someone who makes him feel loved. I can see that you do." Harvey's voice began to waver, he didn't trust himself to continue on, so he just looked at Stephen and hoped the gratitude he felt won out over the jealousy in his eyes. 

Stephen nodded. "Specter, I've been around the block - more than once. Doesn't take a genius to see you want him too." Harvey didn't bother to deny it, he knew it was obvious really. Pathetic. He nodded, not really able to meet Stephen's steady gaze. "So - you're bowing out? You'd do that?" Stephen asked. 

"Yeah," Harvey replied, softly. "Even if it kills me." And with that, he stood up and walked away, looking suave as ever even while fighting wave upon wave of a black and bitter despair. 


	21. Retreat, Regroup, Regain Lost Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, beautiful things take root in salted soil

Stephen watched Harvey glide sedately across the grass, fading into the soft haze of evening. His back was straight, his innate sense of pride forbidding his posture to betray the turmoil and defeat Stephen had caught in his eyes before he turned away. No emotion would seep out from behind the steely mask of the city's best closer tonight.

Stephen sighed, his exhaled breath playing musically over the top of his bottle of beer. He had just been handed exactly what he wanted. Harvey was relinquishing any claim on Mike. He would step aside, pull away, give Mike the room to heal and maybe one day be ready to love again. Hell, a part of Stephen agreed with Harvey - he _was_  the better choice for Mike, or certainly the safer one. And Mike already had feelings for him, Stephen knew it without question. There was a fondness between them, a sense of ease. Not to mention a strong dose of desire... the sexual chemistry had never been in doubt. Hope flared unbidden in his heart. Maybe.. maybe he could.. but no - Stephen wasn't sure if he could knowingly withhold this from Mike. He knew how the genius baby lawyer felt, had known it all along. And now he knew how Harvey felt about Mike, too. Enough that the smug bastard was willing to put Mike's happiness ahead of his own. That was significant, it meant that Mike, the idea of being with Mike, wasn't a one-off fling for Harvey. Stephen had seen it in his eyes, Harvey was also in love.

Stephen spent less than two heartbeats wishing he was a more selfish man, before he exhaled and finally let go. He could feel sadness but it wasn't overwhelming. He could do this. Another dozen beats and he realised he was finding comfort in the thought of how happy Mike would be. Happy but nervous too, he guessed. Then he thought about the long path leading to this point, for all of them. Suddenly, he couldn't contain a chuckle at the litany of mistakes and misunderstandings along the way. Jeez, the two of them were hopeless, for all that their combined intelligence could light up a city street! All this time they had wasted, all that emotion they had used only to torture each other and themselves with jealousy and despair. All because they were just too darned dumb to see! It would be funny if it wasn't so horribly tragic. Well... maybe Stephen could do something about that. He set about having a think while waiting for Mike to arrive back with their beers, knowing that just landing this on Mike was likely to be counter-productive, given the damage his relationship with Harvey had taken in recent months. No - this was a delicate matter, it had to be handled.. sensitively. Telling Mike wouldn't work. Mike would have to come to the realisation in his own time. He might just need a little.. nudge.. in the right direction. 

When Mike appeared out of the thickening gloom, beers in hand, he had Dylan in tow, looking tired and tousled after the long day of fun.  _My boys_ , he thought to himself.  _My amazing boys. I'm so lucky to have them in my life._ And he smiled. 

***

The week following the BBQ was a particularly long and arduous one in the offices of Pearson, Spectre and Litt. Several big litigations hit at once, requiring much overtime due to the mountains of paperwork that had to be proofed and filed. Mike was exhausted, asleep on his feet by the time Thursday rolled around. Work was arriving quicker than he could clear it and Harvey was being even colder than usual. Mike wondered briefly if this were some kind of payback for inviting Stephen to the company day out, but quashed that thought before it could take hold. Harvey was being distant but not disdainful. Quiet but not critical. Whatever was going on probably had nothing to do with Mike, not this time.

Mike decided he really should just leave it alone. It's not like Harvey ever confided in him any more anyway. But as he watched his employer, the man who was once his only friend, pace his office like a caged lion, he wished somehow he had the power to alleviate whatever sadness was weighing him down. Even if only for a while. Harvey looked up, catching Mike's thoughtful gaze upon him. They kept eye contact for a couple of beats, Harvey's face inscrutable. _Beautiful_ , Mike's inner voice proclaimed. _God this man was so beautiful. And so alone._  Mike lowered his head. _Not my business_ , he forced himself to whisper into the dark recesses of his mind. And yet, the voice inside persisted, a sorrowful chant that sounded less like  _Not-My-Business_ and more like:  _Not-Mine, Not-Mine_. 

***

By the time the following Tuesday rolled around, case work had started to tail off in to a somewhat manageable flow. The associates actually got to leave before midnight. As soon as he closed his door behind him, Mike slouched limply into the worn but welcoming embrace of his old couch, beyond tired after such a long day. Sleep seemed miles away, in spite of the exhaustion hovering behind his eyes. He felt keyed up, excited. Today had been - surprisingly good. Harvey had talked to him, actually talked to him, as if he were a real human being; had asked how he was; had forced him to leave the building for the first time in 15 hours to walk to the cart on the corner for a coffee, just to get some air. It was - confusing. But nice, Mike decided. Definitely nice. Analysis complete, Mike pulled the old throw over himself and sank swiftly into sleep, unwilling to make the effort to crawl as far as the bed, but not really caring as exhaustion claimed him for her own.

***

In his penthouse, Harvey was also hovering on the brink of exhaustion. He yawned as he reflected on the day. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe easy. Finally having given up on Mike, stepped back and admitted it would never happen, he felt strangely at peace. The hurt, the jealousy, it was still there, an ache deep in his soul, but there was a freedom in it. Being with Mike was now acknowledged as impossible, the associate was with Stephen now. Harvey didn't have to defend any more, didn't have to fight, or deny. There was nothing left to lose. He could push past the anger, reach a better place. He could remember what he had liked about Mike in the first place, the easy banter, the startling intelligence, the eagerness and the adorably snide comebacks. Yes, he had almost ruined what friendship they had with this obsession. Time to treat his friend like a friend first and foremost, not as the prize in some ridiculous love-triangle of a competition. Mike deserved better than that. Besides - if this was all he would have, then he'd be a fool to let it slip away. Being around Mike was like finding warmth and light in a cold and lonely place. It was like coming home. He would take what he could get and never let his stupid rivalry get in the way again. Even if it hurt like hell. 

Harvey smiled to himself at the memory of Mike's hesitant joy at being noticed again. He could almost feel the soft tendrils of friendship rise from where they'd been trampled under the heel of Harvey's jealousy and pain. As they walked together for coffee, for the first time in weeks, he felt himself relax.  The banter began to flow and the familiarity of it was breath-takingly _right_.This was good. It was enough - and if it wasn't - well. Some day it would be. Harvey would admit no alternative to having Mike's friendship in his life. 

***

In the weeks that followed, Stephen watched with a sense of pride as Mike slowly regained old ground. His confidence was growing once more. He smiled more often, he seemed happier. And when he spoke of Harvey now, his words were laced with affection rather than despair. Yes, taking a step back had calmed things down, given both men time to regroup. Distance had, ironically, helped them back off enough to remember the things which had brought them together in the first place. It allowed them to just be Mike and Harvey, outside of the hothouse of emotion and miscommunication that had sprung up between the two men who had, after all, first been friends. Stephen felt things were going very well indeed.

***

Two weeks before her maternity leave kicked in, Donna strode (as much as you could with a belly full of baby) into Harvey's office. She had a bundle of opened letters and printed emails in her hand, as well as Unfortunate Temp Number Three hovering several steps behind her, fear rolling off the poor thing in waves. Donna rolled her eyes at Harvey to indicate how tiresome she found breaking in her replacement to be, before placing a gilt-edged square of card on Harvey's desk. "What's this?" he asked. "Invitation to a fundraiser, hosted by Stephen Maxwell and his father-in-law. Three weeks from Friday. Black tie. You've nothing else on that evening and I've requested your tux be sent out for cleaning." Donna frowned as she noticed Harvey's pout start to form. "Spare me the speech, Harvey. Just give in graciously! You know that Jessica is so going to insist you go."

So - even if unable to stop himself from indulging in a surreptitious eye-roll - Harvey gave in as graciously as his ego would allow. As Donna and her tottering shadow exited the office, he turned his chair so he could stare through the glass wall. He wondered would Mike be at the function. As Stephen's plus-one he was sure to be. Harvey hoped he could be around the two men as a couple without losing ground so recently re-gained with Mike. He would lay off the scotch, for sure. He was going to need his wits about him. He would do his duty and press the flesh with so many boring old dowagers and greedy fat-cat business men. And he would make sure not to get side tracked by Mike. He would remain friendly but aloof. It would be a piece of cake. He was so good at playing the part, after all. 

***

When he received Harvey's RSVP, Stephen Maxwell smiled slyly to himself. Operation Marvey was GO. 


	22. From the ashes flies a bird on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally.. finally..

Mike checked his reflection in the mirror one last time, nervously tugging at the bow-tie that Stephen had skilfully tied for him half an hour ago. Seeing himself in a bow-tie brought sudden memories of two bodies in a dark sleek car, gliding through the night, of Atlantic City, of Harvey. He supposed bow-ties always would remind him of that night, the association as inescapable as it was arousing, Harvey so close, so warm beside him.  _No, stop, none of that,_ he thought. _I can't afford to think that way about Harvey now._

Half an hour later, he was walking into the foyer, Stephen a reassuring presence at his side. "You look amazing, Mike," Stephen murmured in his ear, guiding him with one hand on his forearm. Mike smiled, one of his genuine happy smiles, saying "you do too - and you know it!" before scoring a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. As he savoured his first sip, his attention was drawn by a brief flurry over by the door. Mike glanced over and froze, jaw hanging in mid air. _Harvey Specter_. He should have known. Looking so divine in his tailored tux, fitting like a glove and transforming the handsome man into a thing of wonder entirely. Even the lighting seemed arranged specifically to highlight his golden skin, expertly styled hair gleaming in a myriad of tones.  _Holy crap,_ thought Mike, _this was hardly fair. The man was god-damn edible._ Stephen smiled surreptitiously to himself as he caught his young friend's expression cycle through shades of shock, appreciation and awe. Mike seemed mesmerised. Yes, this was going to be an interesting night indeed.  

***

Harvey walked into the crowed foyer, solo this time, in spite of never lacking for willing dates for these events. His calm features did not betray the anxious feeling he had in his chest, as he scanned the crowd. His eyes darted around the room - _yes,_ _there, there he was. Oh God. Oh God. He's so gorgeous in that tux._

Harvey drank in the image of Mike, smiling sweetly, his form lean and elegant, long legs and blue, blue eyes. _And wearing that bow-tie. Just like that night.. no I won't think about that night, about how I almost kissed him in the car, how I fixed his bow-tie and my fingers were at his neck, and how I could feel his skittering pulse and the beat of his heart and, Oh God, the smell of him so close._  Pure want pooled in Harvey's belly, he could barely breathe with it. God help him, he had always had a thing for a man in a well fitting tuxedo. 

Harvey closed his eyes, willing himself back from the brink of such traitorous desire. Breathing deeply he tried to banish thoughts of pinning that tuxedo (with Mike still in it) to the wall, of how the sleek fabric would feel beneath his moving hands, of the sound it would make sliding off the lean body underneath, of how the milky skin would so slowly appear... _oh God. Stop it. Stop it now!_  

It was going to be a very long night. 

***

Mike tried. In his own defence, he tried. He tried so hard not to gravitate towards the delicious man across the room. Even when not looking at the city's best closer, he was conscious of him, as if he could  _feel_ him. Everyone else simply faded into the background. There was only Harvey. An inexplicable pull. An echo deep in his soul calling him, a siren song. His senses attuned to the man's every move, Mike could almost  _taste_ him from five feet away. Like a dance, a seductive to-and-fro, they circled each other. They had eyes only for each other, an intensity leaking out in their glances, in the erratic pattern of their breathing, in their inability to focus on anyone else at all. Nobody else existed. Nobody at all. The two men circled, they advanced, retreated. They enacted a ritual created at the dawn of time, the dance of spice and heat. And nobody else in this whole room felt as real, as alive to them as each other, no matter that they had not yet spoken a word. 

Harvey broke his gaze from his young associate, it wrenched him to do it, but he had to regain control. He moved towards the rest rooms. He would stop this, damnit or he would have to leave. _But oh, Mike was so close, so beautiful, how could he leave? How?_

Harvey splashed some water on his face, grabbing a paper towel to pat dry. As he straightened up, his eyes met another man's in the mirror. Not Mike - Stephen. Harvey attempted a smile but it came out rather strangled. Stephen nodded, smiling in return. _Yes, why wouldn't he be smiling? I'd be giving the cat-got-cream grin too if I had what he had_ , Harvey thought. 

"Good party, Stephen," he managed. Talking over the lump in his throat was surprisingly difficult. It made his voice sound a little gruff. Harvey fixed the other man with a look. "I suppose this is one of the last events you'll host here this year, you'll be heading back home soon, right? The new product line is doing well." Stephen nodded. "Well, I won't deny I'm looking forward to being back with my family - with my son. I have missed him terribly, in spite enjoying my time here."

Harvey fixed his eyes on Stephen's in the mirror. _Time to man up_ , he told himself. He cleared his throat. God Damn it, why couldn't he talk! His voice sounded like a stranger's when he began to speak. "If I know Mike," he began, "then he'll want to go with you. The kid doesn't do anything by halves, he will always be ruled by his heart." Harvey paused, before almost whispering "I hope that never changes." He dipped his head, drawing on every reserve he had to continue. "I have contacts, you know, in most major cities. I can put in a word, wherever you bring him. I can make sure he has a job, if he wants one. He.. he is loyal. He will feel bad about leaving the firm. But you'll persuade him. I'll - I'll help. I'll do what I can. But listen up, Maxwell and listen good. He's one in a million, that kid." Harvey's voice wavered, perilously close to breaking. "So help me, if you take him with you - you damn well better take good care of him." He stopped. Looked as if he wanted to say more, but couldn't. So he focused on his hands instead, patting them dry, balling the tissue. These little things, these he could do. 

"Harvey", Stephen said, kindly, the way you would humour a child. "You'd do that? You'd do that for Mike?"

"Yes," whispered Harvey, except it came out a half strangled almost-sob. "I'd do whatever it takes to make him happy."

"Then you should know, Harvey, that I have not asked Mike to come with me. And I don't plan on it." He held up his hands in the face of Harvey's rising anger, quick to kindle to indignant flames on Mike's behalf. "No, no! I haven't been using him. Trust me. Mike and I - we aren't a couple, Harvey. We're friends. Just friends. Always have been. I plan on keeping him in my life, I'll be visiting often, and hope he'll visit us as well. He's - well, he's family now. But - we're not _together_. There's room for only one man in Michael's heart. It isn't me. Never was."

Harvey almost couldn't take it in. He blinked and gaped for a full two minutes, staring at the other man in the mirror. Finally, slowly, he turned around. "You mean.. " but he couldn't formulate the sentence. The words escaped him. His eyes darted almost manically. He floundered for so long that Stephen took pity on him. "I want what's best for him too, you know. And that isn't actually me." Stephen paused, eyeing Harvey critically. "Just - don't make me regret it, alright? Get your shit together. Stop torturing yourselves, for God's sake."

Harvey didn't wait to be told twice. Stephen smiled at Harvey's back as the other man all but sprinted for the door. "You're welcome," he murmured, smiling wryly. But there was nobody left to hear. 

*** 

Harvey left the rest room and scanned the ballroom for Mike. He was practically vibrating with purpose, with single-minded drive. He had to see Mike, he had to see him _NOW_! He deftly fielded two attempted intercepts from people he really couldn't care less about tonight, before spotting his associate. Harvey fast-walked across the space, almost skidding to a halt in front of Mike. _Oh God. Mike._ And now that he was here - he couldn't think of one darned thing to say. This was torture! His mind was racing, his heart beating - oh, too fast. Mike was looking at him as if he was crazy, waiting for Harvey to speak. All of a sudden, his tongue was too big for his mouth. But his eyes, his eyes could speak, they bored into Mike's and bared Harvey Specter's soul. All that pain, all that hope. It was... astounding - vulnerable and raw. Mike's pulse jack-knifed and took off a mile a minute. The look Harvey was giving him, without a single word being spoken, had gone straight to his dick, a jolt of desire all but leaving him weak at the knees. _This wasn't happening. Was it? Oh - was this happening?_

"Mike." It was just one word. It shouldn't be having this effect on him. But God help him, it was. The voice was strained, sultry, full of hope and promise. Mike's eyes went wide, drinking in this Harvey, the one practically undone, full of emotion, everything showing. It was a heady rush. And oh, his eyes were so dark and full of - _want_. It clenched at something deep inside Mike's gut. "Harvey?" he whispered. How had Harvey gotten so close, he hadn't seen the man move. And yet, there he was, right up in Mike's space, his lips hovering so close, so warm.. Mike tried to resist, he really did. But God, the fall was delicious! He so wanted to fall.. 

Suddenly, Mike felt a jolt. They were moving. They were almost at the door, and moving. Harvey had his hand on Mike's wrist, drawing him along in wake. "Where are we going?" Mike managed to stutter. "Anywhere.. Anywhere we can be alone," Harvey replied. "I need you, Mike. I can't.. I just need you." His hot gaze flicked up to Mike's gorgeous blue depths. "Now," he finished. And relished the shudder he felt running through his companion at the words. It shouldn't be this sexy, he wasn't a horny teenager, he shouldn't be getting so horribly turned on just by exiting a boring party with another man's arm clasped firmly in his fist. And yet - he was. Oh, how he was!

And then, all of a sudden, they were outside, the cool air a dark caress around them, a welcome relief from the heat and buzz of the party they had left behind. Harvey spun them roughly, so that Mike's back was pressed against the nearest wall, not caring that they were standing on a city sidewalk, or that anyone else leaving the party would be able to see them there. He simply had to kiss this gorgeous man and he had to do it now.

Harvey met Mike's wide-eyed gaze and a spark of recognition ran through him, kindling a dark fire in the younger man's eyes. Harvey felt the heat of it all the way to his toes, a bush fire burning wildly. No stopping this now. Wouldn't want to..  He would happily burn if he could just have this, Mike so close, Mike in his arms, pressed against him, finally. Finally! 

He watched as Mike's lips parted softly, his breathing hitching and his gaze radiating such heat and intent. Harvey moaned, his whole body aflame, as he leaned in - slowly, slowly - and pressed his lips to Mike's in tentative quest. The feeling - the feeling was like nothing else, exquisite, as Mike opened his lips beneath Harvey's and took him in. The sharp wave of desire that ran through him was like a knife, twisting. Such delicious torture! He was inanely glad for the wall to lean on, he wasn't sure his knees were going to hold. And when Mike's tongue began to move against his - well, he almost forgot how to breathe at the pang it shot deep into his soul. He hadn't known he had one, until now. Until Mike. 

Suddenly, as one, the kissing turned frantic, hot and wet and  _not enough,_ hands clutching and caressing and moving, always moving. Harvey pressed in closer, shivers running down his spine, as he slotted one leg in between Mikes, and Oh God, he could _feel_ Mike's answering desire, it almost drove him mad with wanting. And God, he had to get this man home, into a hotel room, anywhere. Anywhere. Except - he didn't want to stop, couldn't let go,  not now - not ever. And then Mike was gently pushing on his chest, breaking the kiss, and for a moment, the bottom fell out of Harvey's world.  _Oh no, had he gone too far, did Mike change his mind?  Please not!_ But then he saw that Mike was smiling, and his eyes were full of something - fondness? - and he was talking, though Harvey could barely understand the words for the fog of lust and _need_ and _now_ that was coursing through his veins.

"Let's take this somewhere more private, ok?" Mike whispered. And oh yes, Harvey was on board with that. But - he could hardly move, his body seemed to have a mind of its own. It took Harvey a Herculean effort just to prize himself off Mike and push away from the wall. But he wanted to do this right, he wanted the high thread count sheets and soft carpets and that good quality lube in his bedside drawer. He wanted to take Mike _home._  Yes, home. _Where he belonged._

Harvey took Mike's hand and led the way.


	23. Finding the way home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey and Mike Make Music (an epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first attempt at writing an explicit sex scene, I found out that it's harder than it looks, and I'm not sure how I feel about the end result. But the boys deserved a happy ending, so here it is... hope it fits the bill. This is the last chapter in the work - big thanks to everyone who joined me on the journey!

_***_

_God, my brain has blown a fuse_ , thought Mike, as he surfaced to something vaguely resembling consciousness. He was in a taxi that was moving at a faster than normal speed, several high-denomination bills having encouraged the owner to be swift in devouring the miles between the venue and Harvey's sinfully expensive condo. And although Harvey was sitting at the far side of the rear seat, his gaze was on Mike. And he was holding fast to Mike's hand.

The past hour had been a blur of emotion, sensation and in the end - unmitigated bliss. He could barely believe it, but Harvey, his brilliant, sex-on-wheels, drop-dead-gorgeous, arrogant-as-hell boss had  _looked_ at him in  _that_ way, and Mike had been overwhelmed. He vaguely remembers Harvey's grasp on his wrist - steadying, firm - and the rush of cool air on his cheeks. He remembers hearing traffic and feeling a lightly teasing breeze, and then - then the cold bite of concrete, solid and sudden against his back, the tantalising - not enough, never enough - weight of Harvey's body pressing so wantonly into his own. Finally - finally - the kiss. Oh, he remembers the kiss. He will remember this always. He thinks about it as the taxi rolls forward into the night. He shudders.

***

Harvey feels rather than sees Mike's shudder. It vibrates in his very soul. And vibrates straight to his pants. He feels the involuntary twitch, the thickening of his cock, the heavy pulse beating a rhythm of power and desire. He _wants_. In the worst possible way. All this - and only from a shudder. Oh God. He is never going to last. 

They reach the condo - finally, finally - and Harvey has to try very hard not to drag Mike forcibly up to the penthouse right away, no matter that the security guard is eyeing them in suspicion. He thinks that the elevator has never taken so long to move two impatient bodies steadily upwards to arrive at his own front door. Harvey almost can't _breathe_ with the want of it, too long it's been too long, it's all taking too long, he can't - can't - wait, he grasps Mike's wrist from across the expanse of glass - too exposed, whoever thought a glass elevator was - this is taking too long. Too. Too _much -_  and just like that, Mike shifts his wrist and claims Harvey's hand, his eyes turn fond, his mouth curls in the softest smile. And suddenly it all slows down. Harvey can breathe again. Mike suddenly feels like home, pulling him back from the edge of a frenzied panic. His antidote to all those damn nights of wanting and not being able to  _have._  

 _Now is the time to have,_  he thinks,  _no need to rush it now._

The thought brings him strength and a sense of calm, he lets the _right-ness_ of the moment sink into his bones. The intensity builds, passion washes through his body. It still feels too-much. But the pressure is pleasurable now - anticipation. Desire. 

 _Oh yes. It will be worth the wait..._    

***

Mike would have bet anything that this first time with Harvey, they would have fallen roughly together as soon as the elevator door opened, dragging each others' clothes off in their haste - perhaps against the wall, fast and dirty and hard and unbearably  _hot._ But this was arguably better. The doors slid closed behind them and Harvey's hand was in his hand and Harvey was leading him softly, gently, through the condo and into his room. Mike couldn't see the room, only Harvey, only Harvey's eyes, bright with emotion and dark with lust. Mike's insides began to liquefy, his knees tremble. He was, he realised, shaking with the weight of it, his feeling for this man. His need. 

Harvey slowly drew Mike towards the bed, then leaned into him where he stood, smiling into a gentle kiss. The kisses were slow, sensuous, languorous even, tongues sliding softly. And oh, the soft wet heat, it was perfect. Breathtaking. Harvey's hands began to move, gliding up Mike's torso, underneath his suit jacket, stopping to slip it off his shoulders. Even this, the slide of satin against his shirted body, was bliss, was torture, sparking nerve endings he never knew he had.

The kiss deepened as Harvey pulled him impossibly closer, and Mike was almost embarrassed at the soft moan it triggered. The effect of that small, needy sound on Harvey was electrifying - his hands lost some of their gentleness, becoming demanding, claiming. He unbuttoned Mike's shirt, following the skin being revealed inch by beautiful inch with just the tips of his fingers. Mike shivered. His hands lifted, began to move over Harvey's body, moving aside expensive fabric and untying his bow-tie. Suddenly there was skin beneath his touch, his heartbeat picked up, it was pounding now, his breathing had turned shallow and fast. And his cock, it ached. It ached to be touched. 

Harvey was undoing Mike's belt now, had started on the top button of his suit pants. And then came the unmistakable sound of a zip being drawn down and a gasp from Harvey on discovering the lack of underpants beneath, telling Mike that - yes - suddenly his trapped cock was free. The relief, the sweet relief, sent a ripple through his belly. Harvey's hand was smooth and warm and yes, there. There. God. 

And suddenly Mike had to reciprocate,  _had_ to feel the slow slide of Harvey's weight in his hand. He scrabbled at Harvey's pants, somehow finding buttons and zip and pulling down, down, and underpants following and  _oh yes!_ Finally the feel of his hot, hard flesh slipping through his fist. They moaned into each other's mouths, sped up their movements - suddenly frenzied with the heat that blossomed between them - all the sweeter for having been so long denied. Gentleness morphed into desperation, Their hands moving ever faster, the obscene sounds of skin on skin amplified in the large space of Harvey's bedroom. Mike knew he wouldn't last long, not like this. He was close, too close. Too... Too close. He managed to gasp out a warning - "Harvey! Close.. I.. " but Harvey didn't stop, didn't want to. Maybe couldn't. How he wanted this, wanted the first desperate wave to crest NOW, to feel this man, his Mike, cry out, undone and unable to hold back any more. Overcome. Because of Harvey.

Harvey's fist flew faster, sliding slickly now with the help of the pre-come leaking from Mike's slit. God, that was a turn on, there was so much of it. Mike's dick was so hard with want. Harvey groaned. Mike's hand on him, moving in counterpoint to his own, was delicious. He wanted this never to end. He was close too. So close. God this is what that gorgeous man did to him. His stamina was gone, his pupils blown. He felt the familiar heat pool as his balls drew up towards his body. He was on the edge, just on the edge, hovering. And Mike - Mike was right there with him. He felt it in the beat of his pulse, in the desperate moans of lust and desperation. And just like that - with his name tumbling from Mike's lips- he crossed over, spewing fire, spilling his essence all over their chests. Mike came a heartbeat later, no more, before he too was lost in the white heat and spurting joy. Harvey locked his knees, traitorous knees wanting so much to buckle as he stroked Mike through the last of his orgasm, before they collapsed against each other, weak from the force of it. Harvey twisted and pulled Mike sideways down onto the bed, lips still moving against his forehead, whispering his adoration into the night.  

***

"Finally," said Harvey, a long time later, as dawn was pooling in the windows, Mike tucked up tightly in his arms, playing little-spoon.

"Pardon?"

"I said 'finally'. Long time coming Rookie."

"Hmmm. I rather suspect that is not quite an accurate assessment," he quipped, casting a wry eye on the devastation of the bed, their clothes. "I seem to remember not taking very long at all - all three times!"  

Not that Mike was complaining. He liked the soft chuckle Harvey gifted him in reply. It was warm, relaxed. Intimate in the way they were now, in the way Mike knew instinctively they would continue to be. In that precise moment, curled up in his lover's lee, he realised that this was all he was ever going to need. They had both, somehow, found their way to each other. Found their way home.

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote by Rumi  
> http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/52544-a-mountain-keeps-an-echo-deep-inside-that-s-how-i


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